


The Promised Land

by Emriel



Series: Jenova's Call [20]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, Cultural Differences, Dark, Demons, Dubious Consent, Dystopia, Eventual Romance, Exile, F/F, F/M, Heaven & Hell, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Multi, Paraphila, Racism, Religious Conflict, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Stockholm Syndrome, Trauma, War, Wingfic, Yandere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24832852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emriel/pseuds/Emriel
Summary: Cloud Strife is a young boy from the mountains enlisted to join the army but instead finds himself with an even bigger role to play as fate pulls at his strings to fulfill his destiny. A world away, his other half struggles to find him, to save Cloud from God's punishment for a sin that was never his and should have been forgotten.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife, Angeal Hewley/Cloud Strife, Cloud Stife/All, Genesis Rhapsodos/Cloud Strife, Lazard Deusericus/Cloud Strife, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair/Cloud Strife
Series: Jenova's Call [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786561
Comments: 40
Kudos: 118





	1. Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is sort of self indulgent. It’s set in an alternate universe and is an exercise in world building. It'll reflect some things based on real life. Hopefully it’s not triggering to others.
> 
> The rating will go up in the later chapters. Also, the main pairing is Sefikura. But it's a Cloud x All fic where everyone just happens to love him in some form or another.

“Cloud, are you leaving soon?”

Cloud sat down by the fireplace, watching the coal turn orange, then white, into ashes. He sat transfixed. It was early, the sun having not risen and the stars still bright. Normally, he would be sleeping on his bed comfortably, but today, he needed to be up early.

He looked at his mother who was busy cooking breakfast. To her, this was just another day, or at least she pretended it was.

But her voice was small when she asked that question. He was leaving. _For good._ If the worst came to pass.

“Soon, ma.”

Cloud stood up and hesitated, before saying, “I really don’t want to go, but you know I have no choice. All the boys in the village are coming too, so you know I won’t be alone.”

And in his mind, it was a comfort, even if none of them were his friends.

His mother just turned around and ruffled his hair before kneeling down so they could be eye to eye.

“Oh Cloud, I know sweetie. I would have done _everything_ in my power if I could stop you but—" Her breath hitched, "But… but I just want you safe. You see… there’s so much I haven’t told you. There’s so many things I still haven’t done with you. But the Reverend promised me they will keep you safe, away from the front lines… but dear Gaia, you are so young. I really wish you didn’t have to go.”

By then Claudia was hugging him tight and Cloud almost wanted to cry then too. Joining the crusades was something like a dream of his, but he never expected they would start recruiting children like him.

Cloud’s small hands came to rest at his mother’s back, trying to offer her what little comfort he could give. This was the last moment he’ll ever be able to hug her. After that, maybe once the war is over, he’ll return but who knows how long that will take. And if he’ll survive at all.

Claudia wiped her tears and smiled, trying to act cheerful. She stood up and went back to mixing the stew, a delicious pot roast. Nibel wolves served in brown sauce. His favorite.

“I’m almost done with your breakfast. Then, I want you to bring some of it with you and a little bit of the dried fruit. Maybe some of the bread. It won’t spoil for a month. A taste of home if you need it.”

Cloud pressed his forehead against his mom’s back and said, “Okay.”

He stepped away and tried to take in the rest of the house. The spacious ceiling, the small window atop his bed. His worn out teddy bear that was missing an eye. The old television set that sat on top of a rickety table. The sound of birds, the occasional bark of a dog, and the chocobo’s kweh from their neighbor’s backyard.

He would miss his bed. And his toys.

At last, when he was called to eat, Cloud found his mouth trembling. The taste of his mother’s stew made his heart feel warm. And really scared for her because suddenly the thoughts entered his mind. How would his mother manage without him? Who would protect her? Watch over her when she got older?

And how could he ever live without her? It felt too soon. A part of him was entertaining the thought of running away but those who did that were chased like fugitives.

“Mom, promise me you’ll take care of yourself when I’m gone, please?”

Cloud placed his spoon down and she just had her hands pressed tightly against her lap, nodding before sobbing.

“Cloud… my baby…”

The sound of the trumpets announced the company had arrived. Cloud looked out the window and saw rows and rows of jeeps and mobile tanks. The soldiers came out with a salute as a Shinra Knight came out to address the town, calling out to the homes and the names of the children and men called to war.

Cloud dropped the spoon and went over the sink to gurgle. He then went to the bathroom in a rush just to make sure he emptied his bladder. On the table, he saw some medication for nausea. Claudia must have bought it especially for him.

Then, there was a pack of food on the table, wrapped with a pale blue cloth and neatly tied with a ribbon. He avoided looking at his mom because he might break down like she was doing.

His bags sat on the side of the door. On his pack was a small sword that he managed to purchase from the local blacksmith. There were a few clothes, a small towel, and his water bottle.

He adjusted his socks and wore the boots, tightening laces..

“Write to me,” Claudia asked, holding on to the dinner table with white knuckles, as if visibly stopping herself from clinging on.

“I will.”

* * *

The sun had just risen and he, along with the many other boys of Nibelheim, soon went in the little jeeps. He climbed the trunk and sat against the wall that separated the front driver’s seat away from where he could visibly see movement.

The top of the jeep was covered by a dark black leather. He tried not to cry as he saw his mom wave from the door of their house.

The engine started purring and he hugged his belongings to his front. The soldiers handed masks that should help with the dust. It had the Royal Insignia of the Church. White wings with a black sword emblazoned at the back of the helmet. The front had a coated visor that helped with the rays of the sun.

He wore it, together with all the others who started crowding around him.

In a few months, he will turn thirteen. He’s one of the youngest that they’ve ever recruited, but the army was determined to take as many as they could and train them for the upcoming war.

Then, as they finally left town, Cloud watched the scenery change. The Western continent was large and the highways connected them to different parts of the empire. Nibelheim’s rather harsh weather and winding roads made it difficult to traverse at top speed so he was able to appreciate the lush mountains as they made the descent.

The waterfalls. The barebone tops of Mt. Nibel with its spiked rocks too dangerous to climb with its eroding soil. The trees that sat at the bottom of the ravines. Unexplored caves hidden beneath the lush foliage that only his village knew. This was his world and his home. A little piece of heaven carved in the mountains away from the Empire of Shinra in Midgar.

And soon, too soon. The mountainous region was crossing a bridge with rushing water. A place Cloud has never seen before. Plains and green grass. Bushes and the occasional wildlife peeking out in curiosity.

And his stomach started turning so he stopped looking out, content to just stare at his bag. He thought he wouldn’t look but inside the jeep, it was all he could do.

It took some eight hours before they reached the nearest town and by then, Cloud was retching and trying to hold the vomit from coming out.

“You okay, kid?”

It was Sebastian, the bully. He took off his mask and inhaled fresh air.

“Oh, it’s you Cloud. Thought you’d be too young for this. Can’t believe your mama let you go. You’re so small.”

Cloud huffed and if he could only speak, he would say like everyone else, they weren’t given a choice.

The rest of the men left the vehicles and set up camp.

“Line up for dinner!”

While the rest of the men started lining up, Cloud tried not to heave, sitting down by one of the folding chairs they set up and just putting his head on his knees. Travelling by any vehicle for long hours always upset his stomach.

At least, he was near the campfire. It was warm and soothing.

“Hey, I know we weren’t really best of friends back home but I hope we can put it behind us. We’re going to war and I hope… we can have each other’s backs. I got you food and water.”

It was Sebastian again and Cloud accepted it with a small, “Thanks.”

“You know… we picked on you back then because. You looked like a girl. You were really cute and everyone called your mom a… you know.”

Cloud scrunched his face, annoyed at the reminder, “Just. Stop.”

“Right,” Sebastian said guiltily. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I’ll leave your food here and if you want, we’re sitting over there by the Reverend. You’re welcome to join us.”

Cloud just nodded with a sigh.

Sebastian hesitated, his hand outstretched as if he wanted to say something more but walked away. Cloud watched him go. He was used to being alone anyway. None of the boys wanted to be his friend back then and he didn’t mind if he didn’t make any now.

The fire crackled. Embers just floating up into the slowly dimming sky. Some of the boys were roasting marshmallows. Like it was some field trip.

The Reverend was a special envoy of the Church of Midgar. He was a representative of the Pope and it was with their funding that Midgar’s King was given the opportunity to engage in a large-scale war. He was also very good friends with his mother. It was thanks to him that the rumors that plagued his mother for being a whore all but disappeared.

Reverend Lazard. He was surrounded by the other teenagers and was animatedly conversing with them. No doubt he was sharing stories of his noble adventures. If not that, he was reading them the Holy Book. The Reverend belonged to a line of esteemed magic casters. Those equipped with holy power that were employed by the Church.

The rest of humanity had to settle for military technology and they could not fathom why some people were blessed by the Gift of the Goddess and why some were not. Compared to the rest of the Church, the Reverend was such a nice man. He was also the only blonde person aside from Cloud and his mother in Nibelheim. He once thought Reverend Lazard was his father until Claudia later denied it. But the man was so gentle and kind to him. The only one who ever cared. Cloud looked up to him a lot.

He was tempted to join them, but today, he wanted to be left alone.

Cloud then looked at the food beside him, placed carefully on another chair and started eating. With one taste of the gruel, he frowned and put it down, opting to eat his mother’s meal instead.

* * *

Within two days, he had eaten the last of his mother’s cooking and only had the bread and the fruits left. He wished he was able to resist the temptation from consuming it but the food they served to them tasted bad in comparison.

In some towns, they picked up more men. Some were old with greying hair, while some were teenagers. He had not seen anyone smaller than him and often, the older guys would ask his age, telling him stories of their daughters and sons, saying they would never let children join the war.

“What is the world coming to if Midgar is resorting to taking away even our children?”

Cloud didn’t have answers to that. He really wished he knew.

* * *

The closer they got to Midgar, the dirtier the air became. But at the same time, Cloud also felt a rush of energy that he could not explain. Something in the air was calling out to him. Excitement.

He always dreamt of visiting the capital and now he would see it in all its glory.

It took a week before they arrived at the Gates of Midgar. The city above glowed in green, lit up by the planet’s core. It was a large cyclic structure. The city was floating above using plates. Underneath were the slums, where the less fortunate resided.

When the gates finally opened to let them in, there was a long blockade as one by one, they were told to line up to be tagged. It was a simple procedure of confirming their identity and putting a chip on their ear.

He was lined up for the army, carrying his pack with him with slow resignation when a hand tapped his shoulder.

“Cloud, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Reverend,” Cloud smiled up to him. The Reverend gave his shoulder a small squeeze.

“You do not have to join the army,” he said slowly. “I… I may have kept it a secret from you, but you were taken from your hometown for a completely different reason.”

Cloud tilted his head, a little taken aback.

Lazard pulled him out of the line and Cloud made a gesture of sadness as he saw someone take his spot. He had been lined up for a while now.

“Where are you taking me, Reverend?”

“Somewhere else,” came the cryptic message.

Cloud was forced to trail after him, when Reverend Lazard sighed and took his hand in a strong but gentle grip. Cloud stumbled at first and watched as one by one, the people they passed began bowing at the Reverend.

“Will you explain, Lazard?”

Cloud rarely addressed the Reverend by his name, only when he was annoyed.

Lazard let go of his hand. “I promise I will explain, but for now, follow me.”

They crossed the border of soldiers that were inspecting the recruits and approached a line of white robed people, similar to what the Reverend was wearing.

“Welcome home, Reverend Lazard. It is so good to see you.” Cloud watched with discomfort as one of them noticed him and whispered, “Is he the boy?”

“Yes.”

Beside them was a Knight of Midgar who bowed and gestured to their right.

“Reverend, welcome back. Your vehicle awaits.”

“Come with me, Cloud.”

There was a roll of red carpet towards a black vehicle. It looked heavily guarded. Cloud felt confusion and fear grip him but when he didn't move to follow, Lazard dragged him and set him inside. Taking his bag and handing it to someone who looked at Cloud in silent awe, bowing down not just to the Reverend but to him as well.

* * *

In a weird chain of events, Cloud found himself inside sitting in a clearly expensive long black vehicle. The Reverend sat beside him, drinking wine and offered grapes to Cloud who shook his head.

“You will not be joining the army.”

“You already said that.”

“I know, Cloud. How do I even begin to explain?”

Cloud swung his feet and frowned, his eyebrows scrunched, frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair and took off his ponytail that tied the rest of his hair behind his back. It was a nervous habit but it gave some form of relief. He then asked again, “Mother… said you will keep me safe. That’s why she agreed. Can you please explain? If I’m not here to join the army, I want to go back to my mother.”

Reverend Lazard sighed, “If only it were that simple.”

Cloud tried to be patient. Lazard had the habit of taking it slow when he was breaking bad news and he was hoping that whatever the older man had to say wasn’t entirely bad. He hoped it wasn’t as bad as his mother being secretly sick. He’d watched some shows like that and he resisted the urge to shake Lazard back and forth.

Instead, Cloud looked out the window, watching the highway and noting how high they were climbing up, ascending through the skies and up to the plate. He looked down again, at his feet when he got a little dizzy. He was startled when a large hand wrapped around his wrist, turning it over and fingers traced something very shameful.

“Do you remember why you have those scars on your wrist?”

Cloud froze. He pulled away and clutched his hands to himself.

“You don’t do you… you think it appeared mysteriously..”

Cloud was silent. There were cross-marks on both of his wrists. He woke up one day when he was seven years old and the house was on fire, his mother unconscious and his wrists were bleeding.

He stumbled out of the house, unable to carry his mom, crying and almost unconscious after having lost so much blood. He was begging for anyone to help him. Screaming. He was so terrified and before he lost consciousness, he saw the townspeople come out of their houses. They pulled both him and his mother out to safety. Then, he could only watch in relief as they worked together to put out the fire. Then, by some stroke of miracle, they even helped them rebuild half the ruined house.

It was the only time he was ever thankful for his village despite how they were treated. Like a disease. At least, where it counted, they were there to help.

“So I take it your mother still hasn’t told you.”

The man sighed, “Claudia never told you about how special your existence was.”

Cloud’s blue eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“Do you read the scriptures?”

“Of the Goddess?”

“Sometimes. You know that. I don’t like the Church very much. It’s only because of you that I even read it.” Cloud admitted.

“The second scripture has five acts. Loveless… I have the Holy Book with me. If you can please read it out loud with me, Cloud.” Lazard gave an encouraging smile.

“No. I don’t see what this has to do with explaining anything.”

“Trust me. Please, Cloud.”

Cloud nodded with extreme reluctance. But he was used to the man’s stupid requests by now. Together, they read.

> **I**
> 
> _When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end_
> 
> _The goddess descends from the sky_
> 
> _Wings of light and dark spread afar_
> 
> _She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting_
> 
> _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess_
> 
> _We seek it thus, and take to the sky_
> 
> _Ripples form on the water's surface_
> 
> _The wandering soul knows no rest._

> **II**
> 
> _There is no hate, only joy_
> 
> _For you are beloved by the goddess_
> 
> _Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds_
> 
> _Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul_
> 
> _Pride is lost_
> 
> _Wings stripped away, the end is nigh_

> **III**
> 
> _My friend, do you fly away now?_
> 
> _To a world that abhors you and I?_
> 
> _All that awaits you is a somber morrow_
> 
> _No matter where the winds may blow_
> 
> _My friend, your desire_
> 
> _Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess_
> 
> _Even if the morrow is barren of promises_
> 
> _Nothing shall forestall my return_

> **IV**
> 
> _My friend, the fates are cruel_
> 
> _There are no dreams, no honor remains_
> 
> _The arrow has left the bow of the goddess_
> 
> _My soul, corrupted by vengeance_
> 
> _Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey_
> 
> _In my own salvation_
> 
> _And your eternal slumber_
> 
> _Legend shall speak_
> 
> _Of sacrifice at world's end_
> 
> _The wind sails over the water's surface_
> 
> _Quietly, but surely_

> **V**
> 
> _Even if the morrow is barren of promises_
> 
> _Nothing shall forestall my return_
> 
> _To become the dew that quenches the land_
> 
> _To spare the sands, the seas, the skies_
> 
> _I offer thee this silent sacrifice_

Cloud stopped reading as the chapter ended.

“Now, look in the mirror.”

Cloud found a mirror staring back at him, from the panel before them. What he saw startled him.

Lazard watched with a somber note as Cloud raised his hands to touch his eyes.

“Why are they glowing, Reverend… am I a monster?”

Cloud suddenly felt flashes of the burning house.

It was just another night, and he was dreaming of green eyes. An unholy voice, singing sweet lullabies. Golden rays of the sun reaching down to him. Feathers wrapping him in white.

  
Darkness. Rage. Fire. 

A sad voice. Filled with simmering rage.

**_My soul._ **

**_Where are you?_ **

**_Answer me. I can feel you._ **

**_I will tear the heavens apart_ **

**_just to find you._ **

**_You belong to me._ **

**_My precious soul._ **

**_They have hidden you from me._ **

Cloud felt a burgeoning headache.

“As a child you would often talk to her about angels. That sometimes you dream of them, and when you did, your eyes would glow. You don’t remember it now because after you turned seven, you lost a lot of your memories.”

Cloud opened his mouth and closed it. Lazard continued, his eyes taking in a more serious note, his tone still somber. “That night your house burned, you were having a nightmare, Claudia tried to wake you but you wouldn’t wake. She described it to me with great detail. How you grew pure white wings, and how you were burning. She tried to touch you, because she thought you were dying, but when she did, your wrists started bleeding and some force caused her to hit the wall. Those marks on your wrist…”

Lazard sighed, “I knew then from her stories that you were the Child of the Goddess. Blessed by Gaia herself. The wings are another indication. Your eyes that glow with the power of the planet. There can be no doubt… I was sent there to investigate your existence when the townspeople who witnessed you came and complained to the church. We thought it was a fluke, but to see it for myself, many times...”

Cloud was shaking, “No, I’m just a normal boy.”

“You cannot deny it, Cloud. You saw yourself in the mirror.”

“No… You’re lying.”

“Cloud. Please. Breathe…”

Cloud calmed down, clutching at his chest.

“The Church of Midgar has demanded your presence. It has been centuries since we have had another Angel in our midst. Angels fulfill the prophecy, leading us to the Promised Land. You were born for this purpose, can you not see?”

Cloud had often thought the prophecy was just a legend. When things were already peaceful for him and his mother, he asked why others still wished for a Promised Land?

“Please. Come with us peacefully. You do not know how terrifying the Church can be. If you do so, I will promise that your mother will be cared for. I’m sorry I kept it from you. But I knew you wouldn’t leave your mother at such a selfish request.”

Cloud was shaking and he looked away, “I trusted you. You lied to me. And mother, lied to me as well.”

“I know, but it was necessary. You should understand the lengths I had to do in order to protect you. The Church is more powerful than the King, and if they willed it, they would have massacred your town in order to have you. I did my best in order for that not to happen. So please, I ask you to stay calm and become the Angel of our Church.”

Cloud wanted to shake his head and shout.

He knew all about Angels. He read about them a lot.

Angels being such rare creatures, almost none were left alive. They only existed for the Church and nothing but the Church. They were puppets of Gaia. He read how there were so many of them in the past and how their numbers slowly dwindled to nothing because of how the Church tried to keep their lines pure.

> _Legend shall speak_
> 
> _Of sacrifice at world's end_

The sacrifice. The Angel’s sacrifice. He never thought he was one.

* * *

The Church of Midgar was a structure that spanned the whole of Sector five. It went down to descend the Slums of Midgar, its halls open to all. It was a popular sight, with many of its devotees aiming set their minds on a pilgrimage to visit it once. At the top floor sat the strongest of their force, the Pope, the Reverends and the Knights of Midgar.

It was a blur when the Reverend knelt before the altar throne and on it sat a woman wearing platinum silver armor. The Church’s current Pope was Scarlet and Cloud knew without a doubt she was cruel.

Her lips were painted red and her feet rested on one knight, who was on all fours as her footstool.

“Come closer.”

The place called out to him, as if he was being welcomed, and the skies themselves brightened. The sun began shooting rays against the glass stained windows, leaving patterns before the dais where the throne sat. The Pope motioned with her hand.

Cloud knew to obey. He was inches before her when she finally smiled.

“Such beauty you possess. Even the skies agree. It has been a long time since the Church has ever had another Angel.”

Then he was dismissed as she waved her jeweled hand, “Take him away and get him dressed for the ceremony.”

Cloud was crying when they took away his belongings. He struggled away from the priests and sisters who assisted him out of his clothes and bathed him. He wanted something to remember his mother by and taking away the clothes his own mother sewed for him was upsetting.

But eventually they managed to get him changed into silvery white robes with golden trimmings. It was fitted especially for him. There was a golden necklace with wings and the sword, the symbol of the church. It was placed delicately around his neck. Heavy. Annoying.

They gave him white sandals lined with gold and on his hands, gloves of their strongest holy mythril.

* * *

They were singing hymns, calling out to their Beloved Goddess.

Rose petals of white were tossed at his feet before the Church Doors. The ringing of bells as all around him, the people of Midgar gathered.

“The Angel has come to lead us once more to Victory. The Angel of Midgar! The Angel of Midgar our savior!”

Cloud only felt small. But everywhere he looked, they were gasping and crying. Some were jumping for joy, carrying their children in the hopes that he would look at them.

When the doors of the Church opened once more, he was led up the red steps and there was a congregation of kneeling subjects. Cloud thought he was dreaming. He came out of Nibelheim only to become a member of the Army. Not this. _This… false existence._

His shoulders shook and he wanted to go back to his mother’s arms.

**_Welcome home._ **

A thousand voices greeted him warmly. And Cloud’s blue eyes widened as he looked up, seeing a stream of green in the air. No doubt only he could see it and feel it.

At the very end of the carpet, he saw the Pope as she called out to everyone.

“Today, you are witnessing the crowning of our Angel. Cloud Strife. Born as a miracle to Claudia Strife. His words shall be law and you will serve him as he communes with the planet. Let him bless us with her everlasting power.”

The procession was long. It was slow.

The weight of his robes was foreign. But Reverend Lazard said all he had to do was walk slowly, smile at everyone who ever looked at him and kneel at the end so he did just that. Because if he caused a scene, heads would be flying.

**_Brother is home at last._ **

Cloud knelt before the pope and she placed a small crown on his head.

**_Fulfill what we could not._ **

“We grant you the scepter of souls that was blessed by the legends of the past.”

He held out his hands to receive it. A golden scepter with wings. The tip tapered off to a sword. And the hilt was crowned with a golden white ball. It felt holy.

It resonated and squeezed at his heart. Voices speaking to him of sadness and pain. But he could not understand what they were saying.

But they chanted, knelt and rejoiced at his coming.

**_Fly away._ **

Then, he was approached one by one. All of them genuflecting and kissing his fingers, worshiping his feet. He looked upwards, towards the sky, his voice a silent prayer of help, as the weight of a thousand voices passed over him.

**_To the Promised Land._ **

* * *

Cloud was exhausted as he entered his new lavish room and his bare feet padded towards the balcony. He saw the city of Midgar and the Shinra’s tower. A Monstrosity made of metal and glass. The entire city was preparing for war.

Lights forever lit up, until it was time.

Reverend Lazard was beside him, drinking wine and smoking a cigarette of all things.

“I won’t be able to see my mother again, won’t I? Will I be trapped in Midgar, like all the other Angels?” Cloud worriedly asked, recalling the tragic story of the City of Angels, a famed underground city built under the Church where one by one, the Church collected children like him. Hounding them for their powers, as they selected the best one to take on the throne but it proved a disaster when they all but died and no one was left.

“Yes and no. It depends on your influence. The politics in the Church is difficult to navigate but if you ever become strong enough, you might be able to convince the Church to let you see your mother. I can only support you, but you must gather allies around you as well.”

Cloud brushed his hair back and pulled down the hood of his robes, covering his eyes.

“...The pope said, I was born as a miracle… Do you think? Like all the others, I didn’t have a father? Not that I ever needed one. Mother always closed up when I asked about him.”

Cloud slid down and sat on the floor of the balcony, pulling legs to himself. Wishing his life was less confusing.

Lazard sat down next to him and placed a hand on the top of his hood, patting him and Cloud let it, trying not to let the hitch of his breath and his urge to sob show. Lazard just blew smoke in the air, letting puffs of circles fade.

Then, the man spoke, “Child, you know the truth. Your _father_ was merely a dream in your mother’s mind. And that is how Angels are born. A miracle, born from a dream.”

Cloud sniffed, pulling down his hood even more. “Why didn’t she tell me? Don’t you think I had the right to know?”

“To protect you. Claudia, loved you. Your mom is a very strong woman. If I didn’t tell her about the Church she would have never given you up. You should know right, Cloud? How she was ready to die for you. The sacrifice she had to put up in order to raise you on her own, despite whatever you went through as a kid. I learned that she stayed in Nibelheim, away from her own relatives in order to protect you.”

Lazard then put his cigarette out, with magic. Snuffing out the flames.

“I have been assigned as your guardian and mentor in all things related to magic. I gave your mother a promise. I intend to keep my word. I will protect you. I swear this to you as well, My Angel.”

And Lazard pulled up his cloak and pressed lips on Cloud’s forehead.

Above them, a thousand lanterns started floating in the sky.

“What are those?”

Lazard looked up, “Prayers for the dead.”

* * *

From a million miles away, across the barriers of time and space, green eyes with slit pupils opened in silent delight.

**_I felt him, mother._ **

**_He called out to me._ **

**_My other half._ **


	2. Purity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud reaches out to the Goddess, as he sees first hand what true sorrow could be. He tries to help but in helping, he calls out a curse instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering if I should wait before I post this but the chapter has been ready since this morning. I might go over this later to remove or add a few scenes but I'm quite happy with it even though there's not much going on in this one. Also, I have to warn you, it might be innocent now but this story is going to be very dark. **Pitch black.** Please read at your own risk. I'll leave a big warning once it gets there.
> 
> Also I would suggest to open the song link to a new tab if ever... It's the song from Advent Children. It just adds a little bit more depth to the chapter and I thought it was fitting.

By now, news should have reached his mother. Midgar did not make it a secret that an Angel was once again in their midst. The festivities did not stop for days. He had grown tired of the same marching tune, the fireworks in the sky. The cheer of the people.

Parades on the street. Shinra’s King summoned before him to receive his blessing.

An endless procession around the sectors so the citizens can feel _his_ coming.

But for the first time in days, he wasn’t paraded around the city like a doll and right now, he was trying his best to concentrate.

His hand was holding a pen. He was jabbing it down against the blank page.

…

“ _She did it to protect you.”_

So he wrote.

_So, I’m an Angel._

And Cloud hastily crossed that out, proceeding to crumple the page and threw it at a bin that was full of other crumpled pieces of paper.

He knew he made a promise to his mother. He intended to keep it.

But what does he write?

_Mom. I hate you._

Cloud breathed in, slowly.

_You lied to me._

He found himself self consciously touching his ear, which was newly pierced. He wore a cross with blue studs for protection. He was itching to take it off.

By the mirror, the Church’s sign hung. A replica of his scepter like sword. In a glass case, he had the real thing, Scepter of Souls, the giver of life, and death’s bringer. A relic of an ancient past. It glowed green as he kept his eyes trained at it.

Unnerved, he looked at something more comfortable.

The bed was inviting with how big and soft it was. He jumped up and down the second day, after he got over the shock of the crowning but sleeping there made him feel more alone. He was lucky the sounds of the capital could sometimes be heard through the window, the weapon factories, the people, and the cars moving by. So he kept the window open.

Despite the smell of smoke.

He was expecting to sleep in the barracks and not in such luxury.

Even the carpet felt soft.

He then focused on the words he’d written, guilty.

_Mom. I hate you. You lied to me._

And let it stay there.

He stood up and stretched his arms, clasping his hands together over his head and yawned, his gloves making a ringing sound.

He wore the usual gold and white regalia. Unable to choose anything else because his wardrobe was only in that color. It made him easy to spot too. It was distinctive, and as elaborate they came.

Some of them were quite revealing, showing his torso and back. There was even one where it looked like gypsy clothes, translucent except for the shorts and he tried them on in curiosity and promptly vowed never to wear it.

So he chose the more conservative ones that hid his entire body with a hood so he could hide his face.

The flutter of wings disturbed the silence and to his left, a small bird landed just by the window sill. It was smaller than the palm of his hand and his hands were still very small. Swallowed easily by Lazard’s hands, the last time he checked.

A gust of wind came in, and it hopped, fluttering tiny wings against it, tilting its head to the right and left. It had a grey, faded blue plume as if it had lost the vibrancy that he was used to seeing in the mountains. Beady black eyes stared at him knowingly.

Birds in Midgar were rare. It was the first time he ever saw one.

Cloud felt kinship with how it flapped its tiny wings, and finally, it flew, to land in front of him, and sat on the letter he wrote for his mother.

“Hello.”

Cloud had his finger outstretched and the bird took a cautious step forward, before flapping its tiny wings once more and landing on his finger. Claws wrapped itself carefully around it and it began trilling.

“You’re… cute.”

Maybe it was trying to tell him something. It hopped a little and flew once more, to land on the top of his head...

‘Maybe it’s not so bad, having wings.’

He stared at himself in front of the mirror, the tiny bird content to stay on his head, nesting, and happy.

“I’m not a bird. You know.”

A lot of people told him his hair resembled a Chocobo’s ass, but in all his life, he never thought a bird would mistake him as its kin.

“Oh well.”

Cloud looked down at the words he’d written for his mother and reached out to slowly fold it and put it away.

_I miss you so much._

A knock came causing the tiny bird to fly away.

Cloud scrunched his forehead as the doors to his room opened and the Sisters came in. One stood in front and she was small and really young compared to the others. Perhaps the same age as him. 

Instead of a black tunic, it was white. Her coif too, was in a different pattern and the crown band that wrapped around the other Sisters’ forehead was missing.

Her veil was made of lace, he could see through it. It felt enchanted with magic.

“You have been summoned for breakfast, _Angel._ ”

She looked so familiar. Dark brown hair, with a small red ribbon…

 _Red ribbon_ … somehow Cloud thought that he’d seen that ribbon somewhere and the familiar braid.

“Who are you?”

The girl inclined her head and smiled, “I am one of the Head Sisters, still a Reverend in training. I’m Marlene. Nice to meet you.”

Cloud blinked, and looked away.

He doesn’t know the name.

“And you are Cloud Strife… our Angel. I hope you’re doing fine.”

“I am,” Cloud replied.

Marlene turned around and said, “Please, follow us to the dining hall.”

* * *

They descended a grand staircase and before long Cloud heard the sound of angelic voices singing. ([Listen](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1KjMCjDOv9Cw7hdIsYlY2X7Hzm6p0_q38/view?usp=drivesdk))

Their voices echoing and slowly gaining strength as they got closer to the great Hall of the Church.

_Cur in gremio haeremus_

_Cur poenam cardi parvo damus_

_Stella nobis non concessit_

_Non concessit_

“It’s the song… of the Promised Land. Have you heard of it, Angel?”

Marlene stepped beside him, Cloud frowned, “No, but it feels familiar.”

“It was composed by an Angel. Long ago,” Marlene offered, “I can sing it too.”

And her voice carried over, joining the choir, seamlessly blending in.

_Stella nobis non concessit_

_Non concessit_

_Venarum pulsus in terram fluens_

_Parvus, parvus pulsus_

Cloud nodded, and a part of him felt. Healed. Somehow. Just listening to it made him feel _calmer_ and yet there was a strange hint of sorrow.

“What does the song mean?” He asked, as they began walking again.

“Oh… It’s actually a very sad song… It speaks of dying, and asking why we hurt each other. Why the planet cannot forgive us. All in search for the Promised Land. I don’t know the story but the Angel who wrote it, she died shortly after.”

_Cor mortem ducens_

And at those last words, Cloud knew and felt it in his heart… _A heart. Led to_ **_death_** _._ It hurt, as if his own heart felt the pain. And he looked away hastily, blinking back the tears…

Then he looked up into the skies, feeling _her_ response.

The Goddess.

The sky parted for her as Cloud’s own eyes glowed.

_Vita mollis in stellam redeunt_

_Animam sacrificare necesse est_

_Cur in gremio haeremus_

“...Angel...”

**_Someone died. Someone important. ~~Forever~~._ **

The sisters around him marvelled at his miracle, gasping in delight and Cloud reached out to the planet, feeling it resonate. For the first time. Something about the song was prickling at a _fragment_ of a memory.

It was trying to rise at the surface.

Something.

_Forbidden._

“Let’s go, Angel.”

Marlene smiled at him encouragingly and Cloud blinked out of the trance.

_Cur veniam petimus_

_In terram fatali_

Before long, they passed the hallways and the voice of the choir faded. They passed the glass doors of penitence and he saw devotees, kneeling to the Goddess in silence. Asking for forgiveness for their sins.

They continued passing through the hallway, and from time to time, he would meet a Priest, A Sister and the occasional Reverend. They would bow to him. Respectful. Afraid to touch, but craving for his presence.

“We’re here.”

Finally, a grand door that towered two meters above them opened. It was a long walk.

“You’ll be sitting with the Pope, but I think Reverend Lazard is calling out to you.”

Marlene passed him, and whispered quietly, “ _Stay strong. Cloud._ ”

Cloud looked back, but Marlene was already taking her seat on the congregation of other Sisters. She sat with the other white robed women.

He carried himself to Reverend Lazard who looked at him with concern. As he sat down, the chattering voices in the hall hushed. And even if they did not try to make it obvious, it was and Cloud hated how every eye was discreetly looking at him.

“Did you sleep well?”

Lazard took his hands and squeezed.

Cloud couldn’t lie to him. So he shook his head.

“I can stay over tonight and read you a book or cast a sleep spell. You will need your strength,” Lazard let go of his hands as footsteps came, the Pope with her entourage having entered the hall.

She looked down at them with a slight pause, before moving on and sitting at the far end of the long table. There was an empty seat on her right.

“Is that… where I’m supposed to sit?”

Cloud almost stood up but Lazard pulled him down.

“As the Angel, you are welcome to sit anywhere but… that _is_ your spot. Scarlet knows you’re still getting used to this so she wouldn’t take it against you but perhaps, for dinner, you can join her?”

There was a tray set before them, and Cloud noticed how his portions were different from Lazard's. It looked more scrumptious but nothing like his mother’s cooking.

“I don’t want to.”

Lazard smiled. “Some other day then. You can’t keep avoiding her. She _is_ the Pope.”

Cloud cracked a smile, “She looks scary. Like she’s going to eat me alive.”

“Don’t let her hear you,” and at this, there was a familiar hand, ruffling his hair.

There was a cough beside him, and Cloud was surprised to see a man dressed in a military uniform. His hair was the same shade as his, blonde although slightly lighter.

“Lazard, you cannot hog him all to yourself. We must be introduced.”

Cloud shivered as his right hand was stolen from him, a kiss pressed against his knuckle.

“I’m Rufus. Prince of Shinra. A Reverend of the Church. I wish to pledge my allegiance to you, my dear Angel.”

“Uhh… Cloud,” he replied, his cheeks slightly going red because he didn’t know what to say.

A hand clapped excitedly, “We must teach him manners… That’s not how it’s done at all. No. No.”

A lady with a mechanical arm was wagging her hands in a disapproving motion. Rufus had a smirk as he kissed the knuckle once more and let go.

“Well, what can you expect, Shala, our Angel is young and has just been crowned. It is not his fault,” Rufus offered.

Cloud felt annoyed that these Reverends were talking about him as if he wasn’t there. Talk about disrespect. Shouldn’t they be all kneeling before him?

At this, Rufus turned back to him and said “The right response is to graciously accept my offer of allegiance. With kindness and grace, befitting of an Angel.”

“And. How do I do that?” Cloud bit back the urge to scowl.

Shala waved her hand’s and said, “Many ways. Or you can just say one line that many Angels have said in the past. I am honored. May the Goddess bless you.”

Cloud scowled then, “That’s too long.”

Rufus laughed and then turned serious, “The offer is on the table.”

Lazard looked at Rufus and it seemed like the two were having a silent conversation. Cloud blinked as Lazard sighed, “There is no need to accept so hastily.”

“Lazard, you’re being mean to Rufus again, aren’t you?” Shala said accusingly and to Cloud, she smiled, “Well, I wish to offer you the same. You have my allegiance whether you like it or not. Because I like you, _My Angel._ ”

Then, the Pope’s voice called out, “We will begin the prayer.”

And in a chorus of an unfamiliar string of words, all of them put their hands together and bowed their heads.

“ _Goddess, bless us. Bless our food. Bless the drink that quenches our thirst. It is with your grace that we are able to partake of your gifts. We hope to be worthy of our share and that your continued guidance might light our way. Fiat.”_

Cloud struggled to follow through, moving his lips in sync but unable to say a word. Shala was silently laughing at him and had the gall to wink.

Thoroughly bemused, Cloud just frowned at the silver spoon.

With one sip of the soup, he inwardly smiled.

The food was delicious.

‘ _But mom’s is better.’_

* * *

Before the rest of the Church could accost him, Lazard dragged him for his first magic training session.

“Where are we going?”

“Down the crypt.”

They got out the back door and Cloud marvelled at how large the grounds was, stretching out for miles.

They even had a few trees here and there, but what caught his eye and the rest of his senses was the sound of steel clashing against steel. The sound of gunshots firing. Of people shouting and crying.

Beneath them was a sunken courtyard, and there he saw many of the Knights doing their daily training. They fought with swords and guns, and then when one of them fell, there was a team of Sisters and Priests, healing their wounds so they could start all over again.

Cloud found himself coming closer, his hands twitching for the feel of a sword, wondering if he could use the scepter too, or the one he got from the blacksmith. It was what he came here for. The Crusades was where he could put to use what little he knew with sword fighting.

He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to be the best swordsman there ever was. His eyes lit up in awe as he saw one of the knights jump into unimaginable heights. He had red hair, a cocky smile. Instead of a sword, he had a weird looking rod.

His opponent had two blades. To watch them fight in the air made him gasp. And he gave in to his curiosity, pressing against the balcony with a large smile.

And then, one of them saw him and bowed. Then one by one, all of them started bowing. Cloud’s smile fell.

“Cloud,” Lazard pulled him back, “This way. You’re interrupting their training.”

At an early age, he told his mother that he’ll make it big, and he’ll earn lots of money killing monsters and fighting for the empire. But then as he grew he realized how unrealistic that dream was because Claudia Strife kept telling him how war was not for children, and how killing to earn a living was never a good dream.

He was looking for a way to release pent up feelings, so he turned on his only companion, “Why, do you hate Rufus?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“But.”

Lazard turned around, “I will tell you one day, but not now.”

Cloud pouted.

He moved backwards and angrily said, “Stop manhandling me.”

“Then start behaving, Cloud. I know you’re upset. But I’m doing this for you.”

“Liar. You’re just like all the others. You want to use me. How can I ever trust you?”

Lazard ran his hands through his hair and opened his coat to take out his glasses, wearing it for the first time.

He then started wearing gloves and knelt.

“Please forgive me, for being rude to you.”

Reverend Lazard bowed his head.

“Stand up, Lazard.”

“Punish me, my Angel.”

“Lazard!?” Cloud knelt down and Lazard was quiet.

“You know I won’t do that.”

“But I deserve it. I am using our relationship as leverage. It is _not_ my place to do so. If you truly wish to know the truth, I cannot deny you. I am not the Reverend to you anymore. I have vowed to serve you and I—”

Cloud hugged him then, almost about to cry.

“Don’t… I don’t want you to change. Please… everyone else is treating me like… I’m different. I hate it. So not you too. I don’t even want to be the Angel. Just stay the way you are because you’re scaring me and if you can’t… if you really, want to be punished then, your punishment is to stay the same for me.”

Lazard’s eyes softened.

“I… I’m sorry Cloud.”

**_Why are you crying?_ **

**_Who hurt you?_ **

**_Shall I destroy them for you?_ **

Cloud clutched at his head, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

**_Where are you?_ **

**_I’ve been looking…_ **

**_Answer me..._ **

**_My soul._ **

“Cloud!”

Lazard gasped and started waving his hand, in an effort to cast a spell to keep the boy awake.

“I… I’m okay… Just a headache.”

* * *

They came to the crypt and Cloud saw for the first time, how many mages were under the Church’s employ. So many Sisters and Priests, all able to cast magic.

They ignored them, going further down the spiral steps, the light growing dimmer, until they reached a bottom where torches lit the way.

“Electricity doesn’t work here. For some reason.”

They entered a cavernous hall, which looked as if it was carved out of a cave. There were a hundred glowing balls of different colors lodged on the wall.

“What are those?”

“Materia. It’s from the old world. The Ancient people had a way of casting spells and they preserved the knowledge through the use of these Materia. They take power from the planet and use these to channel magic. Your first lesson is how to master the feel of each spell through the Materia. Once you master the spells, you can cast them without the use of Materia… which might be difficult, but this is the only way we can use magic now… These are the only ones we have left.”

“What do you mean?”

Cloud felt another man approach and he was very old. He could feel death on him. The green of the lifestream on its last vestiges itching to fade away.

He had a cane and bowed in greeting, “I am Bugenhagen. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angel. I have studied the history of our kind and our planet. I am the expert in this field. If I may offer an explanation?”

Lazard acknowledged this, “You should listen to him, Angel.”

Cloud nodded and Bugenhagen lit up in apparent delight.

“You see, aeons ago, our world was in chaos. Legends say that a great holy war took place. Our Goddess descended from the skies to put an end to it and blessed the Ancients with magic. She gave us angels. But the wars continued. Ancient civilizations have wasted away because they fought for dominance and the possession of her fabled gifts. Materia, being one of them.”

“These balls.”

“Are quite powerful and are not to be messed with. Rumor has it, in the past, you may even summon dragons from the sky but we do not have those anymore.”

Cloud drew closer and touched one of them, and they started glowing. A voice reaching out to his mind, telling him _how_ to cast the spell.

“Once, the world was filled with Materia, but now, there is so little left. These relics of the past are priceless. Midgar holds the largest collection, but our enemies also have theirs.”

Cloud touched them one by one and they lit up as if they were all greeting him. They all felt familiar. Like once upon a time, he fought with them too.

_Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds_

“So, the Crusades are for these? Is this why we’re invading Wutai?”

Lazard shook his head, “Yes and no. The Church is hungry for power and wants to spread their faith to all lands of Gaia. You also know that they are in search of the Promised Land. The entire world has yet to be explored. Materia is just… a bonus.”

Bugenhagen laughed heartily, “Well said, Lazard. So unlike your father.” Lazard looked down at this.

Bugenhagen turned to Cloud and started combing his thin fragile hands down his beard, “The planet is dying, but the Goddess has sent an Angel… Perhaps we will see another miracle. Hoho.”

The old man left laughing to himself and Cloud turned to Lazard and asked, “What did he mean by that? The planet can’t be dying.”

“The Church kept it a secret, but it’s true. Once you learn to communicate with _her_ perhaps you will guide us to prevent it from happening…”

“Lazard!?”

“It’s not important. Not yet anyway. It’s a burden that does not belong to you. Many Angels in the past have warned us and yet we did not listen. For now, what I want you to do is practice. Reverends are able to cast an assortment of spells but there is a limit to our power, Angels can use _all_ materia. I want to see it for myself.”

The man folded his arms and looked at Cloud expectantly. As if by saying it, Cloud would perform the miracle before him.

“Go ahead, touch them and cast the spell that comes to mind. Then we’ll move on to casting them without having the Materia on hand.”

And before long, Cloud found himself holding a _very_ familiar ball, because it was so eager to be reunited with him.

_‘Fire.’_

* * *

Cloud felt exhausted. He wanted to cry. It was easier to cast magic with Materia but without it, it felt like he had to consciously recreate the feel of whatever spell he just used and it took a lot out of his mind.

It was like trying to look at two things at once.

“If it helps, you can use your hands and memorize a certain gesture. That’s how I learned. Others sing. Others say the name of the spell out loud. Like Firaga or some nonsensical drivel but I wouldn’t suggest that because your opponent will be able to know what you’re casting and counter it.”

It was a headache.

He managed to memorize two spells out of the hundred or so in the crypt but Lazard said they had time and his talent was god given.

It was beyond him. Cloud wanted to roll into a ball and hide from the world.

Lazard was proud of him, but Cloud thought he wasn’t any good.

Once Lazard let him go for the practice sessions, he ran away.

So here he was, trying to catch his breath. Ducking in every shadowy corner he could find and trying his very best to stay quiet. If only he can use a disguise.

It wasn’t easy to escape but with a badly mastered stop spell, everyone who tried to apprehend him was frozen in place. It was tempting to write on their faces—if someone could please hand him a marker—but he had a mission and that was to be alone.

Even for just a moment.

Before long, Cloud realized he was lost. He looked left and right but so no one.

The hallways were quiet, littered with unknown paintings with people wearing strange clothing.

His feet hurt, his sandals definitely not for running and he growled, having had enough. He untied the stupid footwear and tossed it away. And then, he removed the irritating braid, the white ribbon, the gaudy necklace and huffed.

“I hate this.”

After some time, barefoot, he wandered alone. He happened before a glass dome after climbing another set of stairs, possibly so high up in the tower of the Church because he couldn't count the floors anymore.

He pushed open metal doors and saw a garden. A field of grass with shrubs of white roses. He ran to it and collapsed there, rolling around at the feel of something familiar, and started looking up at the stars. He reached out to it.

Then, his stomach growled.

He turned around to curl up and saw an upside down face.

“Hey.”

Cloud would later deny how much he screamed like a girl.

“Ma-Marlene?”

“Uhuh… What are you doing here?”

Cloud turned away.

“I ran away.”

“From Reverend Lazard?”

He nodded, and kept his mouth shut stubbornly.

“I didn’t see you in the hall for lunch, or dinner. I know there are others looking for you. Everyone’s worried, Angel...”

Marlene sighed and started walking all around him before putting her hands on her hips and threatening, “If you don’t talk to me, I’m going to call them and let them know you’re hiding here.”

“No. Dont. Please. I really just wanted to be alone. That's why I ran away.”

Marlene laughed and Cloud felt his forehead crease. The way she acted reminded him of an _old_ friend but he couldn’t put a finger into it.

“I can just… leave. If that’s what you want.”

“No, stay. I… I don’t mind you as company.”

Then his stomach growled again. Cloud felt his face heat up.

“I have some food, if you like. It’s not much. I hide away here myself. It’s the only place they don’t look at.”

She then left him and dragged a box from under one of the bushes. It was a little treasure chest and inside were snacks.

Cloud was tossed a chocolate bar.

“Thanks.”

Marlene sat next to him, and said, “You know, for an Angel, you’re awfully rude. Nothing at all like the books.”

Cloud just munched on chocolate and opened a pack of chips that she handed over...

“You’re not very friendly either,” Marlene ranted.

Cloud glared and put down the food.

“Do I have to be?”

Marlene shook her head, “No. No… it’s just surprising. That you’re so _normal._ I thought all the Angels were special but you’re just like me. I like that. That you’re normal, Cloud.”

Cloud turned to look at her, “You’re different too. Everyone else, they treat me like I’m so… special.”

“Because you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” She laughed and laid down beside him, crossing her arms behind her head.

Marlene started raising her legs up and down, before settling down, “I think we’re the same. The Church stole me from my family. I grew up in the slums, but once they knew I could use magic, they took me. I haven’t seen father or mother for years.”

Cloud looked at her in honest concern, “But can’t you just visit them?”

Marlene shook her head, “Until I become a Reverend, the church won’t let me out. This place, even though it’s so nice and so peaceful. It’s like a cage. That’s why I told you… to be strong.”

She then noticed his feet, “You’re bleeding”. Marlene placed her hands over his ankle and started casting.

Cloud watched as his injury healed slowly, until nothing but unmarred skin was left. “Do you think you can heal scars too?”

Marlene slowly shook her head, “Not unless you reopen them… Scars remain on the body once you let them stay.”

There was a name.

But he couldn’t remember it.

His hands were reaching out for the ribbon that tied her hair. It was askew. He had adjusted it before thinking.

“Do you think we can be friends?” Cloud asked.

Marlene gave him a pretty smile, “Aren’t we already?”

Then she looked guilty. “Sorry, Cloud. Reverend Lazard made me promise to tell him once I found you.”

And just like that, their little snacking session got interrupted.

* * *

They were back in his room.

Lazard was seething.

Neither of them wished to talk because Cloud was stubborn as a bull when he wanted to be.

They sat before Cloud’s dinner table, an unopened chess set and a pitcher of water in between them. The clock could be heard ticking.

“I can’t be your guardian if you don’t let me act like one, Cloud.”

Cloud was busy kicking the leg of the table and looked up with a glare.

“Honestly. You are so much trouble.”

Cloud kicked the leg hard. He watched the water from the pitcher spill over to Lazard with hidden glee.

The table hit Reverend’s Lazard’s leg and the man put both of his hands down flat on the table in frustration.

“That is enough! You are acting like a spoiled child.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Cloud folded his arms.

“I know, and I’m sorry for dragging you into it, but would you be happier if everyone in your village died? Go ahead. See if I care. Run to your mother and face the Church’s army. You saw them today didn’t you. See if you can protect Claudia by yourself.”

“I…”

Cloud turned away.

“Sorry.”

…

“If it helps, at least, you found me?” Cloud offered, quietly.

Lazard gave him a hard stare and then sighed, loudly, “Brat. Just help me dry this with a fire spell.”

“How?”

“Just do it very gently. You don’t want to burn the room.”

Cloud flinched, but he also wanted to get over his fear of fire.

“You can do it.”

Cloud bit his lower lip in concentration. With a thought, the flames flickered at the tip of his finger.

In the meantime, Lazard brought the pitcher to the sink. He dried himself too, and sat down.

It took awhile before all the water in the table was gone.

“Now… are you calm?”

“Yes?”

“Good.”

The man opened the chess set.

“I’m going to teach you a little bit about Politics now. It’s about time you learn this. I don’t want you going in blindly and making friends with people you can’t be friends with. And I also want to teach you why you have to act like you don’t _hate_ me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

And Cloud looked down, “And why can’t I be friends with anyone? Not that I want to. But isn’t the point of making friends… friendship? Like when you like the other person?”

Lazard shook his head slowly, “No.”

Cloud glared at Lazard.

“But mother always told me—”

Lazard inhaled, “Your mother isn’t here now and bringing her in this conversation is highly inappropriate considering how she made it my responsibility to protect you and I’m just trying to do my job so listen to me, Cloud Strife, Angel of mine. You are in a den of _monsters_ and if you don’t want you, your mother, or me to die, you have to play it safe.”

“Huh… is the Church really that bad?”

Lazard wore his glasses and shook his head, he then drew his hand in a perpendicular arc across the air.

Cloud tried to speak, but no voice came out. He then opened his mouth and kicked the table again but Lazard rolled his eyes and waved his hand upwards, and Cloud fell against his chair, unable to move, frozen, but still hyperaware.

“Good. Silence at last. I do not want to cast spells on you like this but it will take me ages to explain since you keep interrupting. And my patience is worn thin,” Lazard raised his hand and pinched a miniscule dot in thin air, “I have this much left… Now where am I. Friends… You better start thinking of the people here in terms of alliances. Your idea of friendship is alien if not nonexistent.”

He summoned chess pieces in the air and Cloud warily looked at them, internally screaming _Bastard_.

“This is you.”

It was the King and Lazard placed it in the middle of the board. A white piece.

“You are powerful. You have the potential to be the most powerful mage, the most talented fighter. You can communicate with the planet. You are the vessel of our Goddess. You are glorified for it. Men and women will throw themselves at your feet. The list goes on. All Angels have the potential to become the most powerful entity in the continent but you know what, it doesn’t matter. Because you’re all alone.”

The Black King is placed against him.

“This is the King. Of Midgar.”

He placed a Black Knight and Bishop beside it.

“The King is backed by the Church, and he has an army of Knights similar to what the Church has. He is also backed by the rich aristocrats of the city and many of our states are loyal to his line. They rely on weapons more than magic. But you know what. He is nothing next to the Church. Still, despite that, he rules the entirety of our Empire except for Wutai and the unexplored regions. Do not underestimate him. Rufus Shinra, despite being a Reverend, is next in line, and I am loath to admit, but he will be a far more terrifying king than his father when the time comes.”

Cloud tapped the table impatiently, wanting to ask a question.

Lazard looked surprised and sighed, “You may speak.”

Cloud heaved a sigh of relief when he tested his voice and found that he can speak again. “Is that why you don’t like him?”

“It’s because we’re half brothers.”

“What? So you're a prince too?”

Lazard shook his head and silenced him again. Cloud looks affronted.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it one day. Maybe when you’re older. You’re too young to understand.”

Lazard then carefully placed the White Queen against him.

“This is the Pope. She is the single most powerful entity within the Church because she has earned the vote of majority of the Reverends. She rose to power a few years ago, after having eliminated all the threats. Yes, Cloud, I know the look you’re giving me. If you want me to spell it out loud. She killed them all, or had them killed. That’s all I know.”

Lazard stood up and took out a bottle of wine from a cupboard and started drinking straight from the bottle. When he came back to sit on the table, he unceremoniously slammed the wine bottle down. Outside them there were fireworks again, Midgar still celebrating his existence.

If only they knew how powerless he was.

Cloud saw his face reflected against the Wine bottle.

Just a small boy, unable to even speak.

“Scarlet is not afraid of bloodshed. She once ordered the eradication of Corel when they rebelled against King Shinra. And she’s not alone for her crimes. She is from a family of military leaders, and she has a cousin,”

A Black Rook lands beside the White Queen.

“This is Commander Heidegger. He leads Shinra Empire’s army. If Scarlet decides to rebel against the King, it is likely the King will be unable to protect himself, but… the king has his own force of elite fighters, should that ever happen.”

“There’s more?”

“Your resistance to my magic is alarming. I will not silence you again if you promise not to interrupt me all the time, Cloud.”

Cloud nodded eagerly.

“So, the King, knowing how precarious his position is, has started training an elite unit of spies. The Turks and Soldiers. It is said that they are everywhere and that there are even some within our midst. Should the Church ever betray the King, this is his last defense.”

Another Rook, a Knight and a Bishop is placed beside the Black King, away from the other Black Rook which represented Heidegger.

“What about you, Reverend Lazard.”

“Lazard will do, Cloud. There is no need to be respectful to me when I’m beneath you.”

…

Silence. Lazard started drinking even more wine. Cloud gave in.

“Lazard then. So… so… what’s your role?”

Lazard found himself a White Rook and placed it next to the White King.

“I am your protector. I… I am the unofficial leader of the Knights and Mages. I also have influence within the Ranks of Reverends, but not with all of them.”

He placed another white rook, “This is Rufus. A lot of the Reverends are old aristracts who support the king. He has gotten close to all of them but I warn you not to trust him because I know he will not hesitate to turn on you if it suits his agenda.”

He placed a White Knight and a Bishop, “These are allies from neighboring regions who have been recruited by the church. Their loyalty is to their land, not to you, or the Pope. Or the King and definitely not to him. Some of them might be spies. You never know. Some of the Reverends have their own agendas. Shala for example, is only working with us because her older sister has gone missing because of a mission from the Pope. Some have been taken forcefully in their towns and are held hostage until the Church can make use of them. Others are… ex-convicts, pardoned because they have special abilities useful to the Church. Monsters. That’s why I want you to be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

And then he placed Pawns, black and white. “The people are divided. They are either loyal to the King, or loyal to the faith. Or both. They are also expendable to both. In this war, they are the first to die. The army’s recruitment campaign? They just want more cannon fodder.”

And then finally, on the far edge, Lazard placed a Knight, Bishop and a couple of pawns. With a wave of a hand, they turned to grey.

“How’d you do that?”

Lazard smiled, “Magic. Silly boy.”

“I know, but… I want to learn that next.”

“It’s a useless ability, but sure. I’ll teach you, now stay quiet.”

“Okay.” Cloud pulled his feet up on the chair and leaned forward.

“In other parts of the world, there are still people against the Church. The Church wants our faith to rule over Gaia. For all people to accept the Goddess as the only truth, we must dominate humanity, or so the Pope likes to preach. And in ordering for the crusade, she hopes that the Promised Land will be found… All those who deny our faith will sadly perish. That is the plan.”

“That’s horrible,” Cloud frowned and continued, “I don’t want to… help with that kind of thing.”

“You have no choice. You are the figurehead of the Church. They will use you to gather more allies and spread the faith. That is, unless… you evolve and win them all. If you become strong enough and find a way to earn their loyalty...”

Cloud blinked and stared at Lazard, “Do you think I can do that?”

“Maybe. I have high hopes that you will, My Angel. The Church is corrupt, and someone needs to fix that. Of course, things are more complicated than this chessboard but this is the gist of the current shape of politics we are in. So, do you understand? Cloud? Don’t make them think you hate me, or else they’ll kick me out of the picture… When you ran away… I honestly didn't know what to do. The Pope was livid. I suggest you avoid her for a few days.”

Cloud put his feet down and sighed. His small feet padded slowly across the carpet and he leaned against Lazard, wrapping his arms around him and pressed his head against the warm shoulder.

“I’m really sorry.”

There were hands smoothing his hair, and Lazard gave a shaky laugh. Pressing him closer.

“You don’t have to say sorry. Show it through your actions instead.”

Cloud yawned and there was a hand on his leg and another on his back as he was carried to bed. “What time is it?” Cloud said sleepily.

“Half past midnight.” He was tucked carefully and Cloud remembered how his mother did the same.

“I’ll read you a story.”

“The Goddess again?”

“No… a lesser known one. The story of the One Winged Angel.”

“Hmmn… my favorite… okay...”

Cloud closed his eyes as a hand settled on his forehead and brushed down, smoothing his fringe away from his face.

“Before that, why don’t you tell me what you want for your birthday, it’s coming soon isn’t it?”

Cloud opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling but seeing instead, a warm face with brown eyes, “naw… it's two months from now...There’s a girl from the slums…”

* * *

Gifts were favors, Cloud was slowly learning.

Scarlet, Rufus, Shala, Tuesti, Bugenhagen, the rest of the Reverends, even Lazard spoke in terms of favors, trying to con and manipulate each other into giving something they normally wouldn’t give.

Nothing was unconditional.

Even their loyalty.

And he asked for a big favor just to see Marlene sink to the floor and cry.

“Your mother? She’s dead. Been awhile. Three years. The hell are you still doing here? I told you to leave. Just leave me alone.”

“Father… you don’t know how long I waited just to see you.”

And there was a crash of bottles, dishes.

“Get out. Do you hear me! Eleanor died because of you! I don’t want to see your face… Fuckin Church Dog!”

“It wasn’t my choice either!”

“Like I care. Get the fuck out before I shoot you.” There was a scuffle and the sound of a gun being loaded with bullets.

Cloud could hear them arguing. He was trembling outside the door.

Then Marlene screamed.

Cloud pushed himself from the wall but Lazard shook his head, placed his hand over him and went in instead.

“You will unhand her.”

Cloud watched, and saw Marlene getting tossed to Lazard.

A crazed man with sunken eyes carrying a shotgun was screaming, “Fucking Church. You all think you’re doing this for the Goddess! You murdered my family! You took away my home. I know what you all want. Money. Power. You money grubbing bastards deserve to burn in hell for all I care. GET OUT!”

And Gaia he started shooting. Lazard raised a hand and deflected the bullets easily.

“Good day. Sir.”

“Fucking assholes! Just leave already.” And the man collapsed on the floor, next to his empty beer bottles.

Lazard closed the door and Marlene was shaking.

It seems, they have overstayed their welcome.

She stumbled away from Lazard, and before long, there was an awful lot of brown hair on his face. “I… I’m sorry I ruined your birthday, Cloud.”

And he patted her back, awkwardly.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s not safe here,” Lazard said as more people started coming out of their homes to see the commotion.

Lazard pulled his hood down for him and cast a spell of protection.

“Marlene… we have to go,” Cloud said as gently as possible.

The girl just nodded, and Cloud looked away, holding her hand as he pulled down her hood as well, following somberly after his mentor.

* * *

He knelt before the altar and communed.

He had the hall to himself today. Because this was the first time he ever sought to talk to _her_. They all said he could talk to the Goddess. So he wanted to know if he could. If she would bother responding.

He had many questions. ‘What is the reason for all the sadness in the world?’

If there was a Goddess that could save them all, why didn’t the Goddess help everyone just a little bit more?

In the silence, he pressed his head against the floor and looked up at the statue. The wings of the Goddess. Her Scepter. Her kind face.

‘If you’re out there. I want to talk to you. I want answers.’

Cloud almost stumbled as he heard a lot of voices. But one was louder than most.

 **_Angel._ ** _Angel._ **_Angel._ ** _My Sweet Child._ **_You talked to me at last._ **

“Goddess?”

There was a feeling of affirmation.

And Cloud saw flowing golden hair reaching to the floor. A kind smile, unwavering. She had green eyes. To be before her presence almost left him trembling, speechless. And yet, Cloud found the voice to speak.

“My… friend. Saw her father today and… I can’t understand… Why? Why she had to hurt like that… she did nothing wrong. But her father blames her for everything… Why?”

**_Suffering. Misunderstandings. Death. It is all part of the cycle._ **

“Why? Why can’t everyone just be happy…?”

**_Because their eyes are not open._ **

**_You cannot heal every soul._ **

**_Not all burdens are yours to take._ **

**_You exist, for the planet._ **

**_For me._ **

**_To love me._ **

**_To serve._ **

**_As my voice._ **

“What should I do?”

Cloud felt her deep sadness. Resignation. Her regret.

**_The planet is dying._ **

**_There is… a sickness at its core._ **

“The planet?”

Then, a million wailing voices were heard.

Countless suffering souls choking the planet’s core. Those who suffered in misery. Those who cursed their entire existence.

The grace of the Goddess unable to reach their minds. Unable to soothe their worries.

Dying in abject misery.

And older ones. Resigned. Content. Encouraging.

The happier ones, telling him everything will be alright. The skies parted for the sun as they seemed to always do in his presence. It plunged the halls in a myriad of colors. He kept searching, but found no answer.

“So… how can I serve you?”

There was no forthcoming answer. Only silence.

**_You are my last child… the only one… my only hope._ **

  
.

And abruptly, the Goddess left him.

Cloud stood up and saw the dust swirling around him. Behind him, he felt the ghost of wings recede.

A lone feather floating beside him

He pressed his hands on his head, feeling more confused and lost than he first did. Not knowing what the Goddess truly meant. Or what she even wanted for the world.

* * *

He clashed swords with Rufus.

“My Angel. Why so angry?”

“Because the Goddess is so confusing,” Cloud pushed back with the scepter, wishing it would break with his anger, never mind its legendary origin.

It was late in the afternoon, the sky an orange peel against dark clouds. Almost as if it was about to rain.

It was just that one moment of distraction that he looked away and Rufus smirked, swiped his sword with a powerful blow that left Cloud’s arm ringing. Cloud turned around and watched with gloom as his sword embedded itself in one of the columns.

“Maybe I should have asked Marlene to spar with me instead,” Cloud frowned, wincing at the pain in his arm.

“To win, is not all there is in the world,” and there was a green glow, healing him of whatever injury he sustained from the fight.

“Thanks.”

Rufus pulled at the necklace, and Cloud stumbled forward, and suddenly, there were lips pressed against his.

He spluttered, eyes wide and watched the man pull away. Rufus looked like a cat that caught the canary. Pursing his lips in a smirk as he stretched to his full height. Towering above him.

So smug.

Cloud began wiping his sleeve against his lips in disgust. “Why did you…?”

“To take your mind off of things. You challenged me to a duel, and here I thought you would fight with me seriously. Would you like another? I _am_ a very good kisser. I will kiss all your worries away, My Angel. Just say the word.”

Cloud looked away.

“Just leave me alone.”

Rufus laughed and Cloud went after his scepter that was lodged on a column.

It was a little bit too high and Cloud tiptoed to reach it. Rufus wrapped his fingers around the scepter’s hilt and dislodged it easily. His voice took a deeper tone, “Was that your first kiss?”

Cloud blushed, “I…”

“So I take it, that's a yes.”

And Rufus trapped him against the column, pressing closer. Cloud felt his breath hitch.

For the first time, Cloud noticed how much older Rufus was to him, like a shadow that blocked the sun. _And it felt scary._

“For one so young, you certainly don’t notice your allure. That you sought me out alone… my my. Such a naughty move. I wonder why my brother hasn’t bothered training you in these matters.”

“But you’re a guy...”

“Gender makes no difference, My Angel. I hope you’ll remember that.”

The man knelt before him, offering him the scepter as a gesture of peace.

Cloud took it hastily and clutched it to his chest.

And the Rufus smirked languidly, leaning forward until he stopped and raised both his hands in surrender.

“Lazard!” Cloud happily exclaimed. And he saw his mentor pressing a very sharp looking sword on his brother’s back.

“Step away.”

“Of course… I was merely doing my job, _brother_. No need to look so ruffled. I’ll take my leave.”

Rufus stood without a care, as if a sword was not currently poised at his back. He gave one last lingering look at Cloud and Cloud knew the man’s eyes were focused on his lips.

Lazard sighed as he watched Rufus leave together with a number of Knights that stepped out of the shadows.

“Good job boss.”

“ _The Angel’s first kiss… can you believe it… Man if I could…”_

“Shut up, Reno.”

Cloud blushed at this, “Does that mean he likes me?” Cloud found himself tracing his lips.

While unheard of, the Church does allow homosexuality. Cloud pursed his lips in thought, all earlier frustration gone.

“Cloud, we will not be practicing magic today. I have to teach you an _important_ lesson about… the birds and the bees.”

“What’s that?” Cloud turned around and eyed his mentor, guardian, and secret father figure. He bounced at the balls of his feet.

“Sweet Gaia. The things I must do to protect you and your honor.”

* * *

_And just like that, months passed._

There was a crowd, and Cloud had the scepter raised above him, willing for the planet to rise with him. Tonight was a special night. He’d been practicing many weeks for this.

He wore light robes and was adorned with jewelry. The ones that made a sound with his every movement. He volunteered for this knowing that many Angels before had done so. It was almost a lost artform, carefully preserved by those who remembered what little of it.

Dancing.

At first, dancing felt impossible, but like everything, for some reason, it came to him naturally. Like a fish learning how to swim.

The sending was a special way to honor the dead. To help guide their souls and soothe them before they joined the lifestream. The Goddess gave him a sign that day, and maybe this might help.

They were all waiting for him to begin. The continent’s hopeful citizens who have lost their loved ones. If he could ease their suffering just a little, he’d be happier.

So he called out to her. The Goddess.

Somewhere in his mind, he felt _her_ presence.

**My child.**

A sweet embrace, encouraging, and touched by his thoughtfulness. He brought the scepter’s tip downwards and pressed the blade against his lips.

Then, he moved.

Above him, lanterns were sent floating in the night sky, the green of the lifestream strong as the souls of the departed lingered.

With every twirl of his hand, he could see them be enthralled by the dance.

And his message was simple.

'Please. Rest.'

And one by one, they started their descent. He heard the shocked gasps as the souls converged together and materialized, the green that only he could see was now visible to those who were watching.

So many of them remained.

And now they were being sent along to the river of life. A part of him somehow knew that one day, once these souls have rested enough, new life will come out of it.

An endless cycle.

‘Will they make it safely? I hope you can watch over them, Goddess...’ Cloud wished, as he danced against the beat of the drums and the singing voice of the choir.

His bare feet tiptoed, and he felt invisible wings carry him. His body was so light. Twirling with an imaginary partner.

This dance was meant to be performed by two.

_A long forgotten memory._

Faded.

The skies turned dark as rain fell. Thunder clapping.

Cloud kept dancing.

The Voice Of Many Others. Slithering like a sickness in his mind.

**_~~PUPPET~~._ **

_“This sacrifice is not yours to bear.”_

~~_PuppetChildoftheGoddess_ ~~

_“Cloud. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to do this.”_

_C U R S E D_

**_I know you’re there._ **

**_You belong to me._ **

F O R A L L E T E R N I T Y

**_Will you die for me?_ **

_ŠÆ¿Þ¦RØ†—¿_

Cloud stumbled, and clutched at the hilt of his scepter, plunging it to the ground to steady himself, feeling the rush of the planet course through him.

But then he knelt and reached out to the heavens. Sword forgotten. Chasing after a mirage.

He was lost in the motions, feeling as though something else was moving his body and he was but a prisoner in it.

The Lifestream was gone now. Replaced by an awful shadow that reached out from the sky and it pulled him down. Under.

Somewhere in the void.

The image of black wings, burning into his eyelids.

And the resounding cry of Angels, as they finally won against _—_

**_Estuans interius ira vehementi_ **

Cloud clutched at his heart and started crying.

The drum beat stopped as he knelt on the ground and stared upwards.

_Feeling lost._

And unbearably alone.

There was an applause as he looked all around him and saw the blurry face of Midgar’s citizens. But it was disjointed. Because the world lost _all_ its c o l o r.

The sound of rain falling.

_Dead bodies. So **many** ~~dead~~. _

And in front of him, there was an _angel?_ With one dark wing.

Silver hair and inhuman eyes.

The whole world faded into white.

“Who are you?”

**Have you forgotten my name?**

**_ŠÆ¿Þ¦RØ†—¿_ **

Cloud, whimpered as the angel came closer. His voice echoing in his head.

**You’re hurt. Let me help you…**

_There was a cold ring of metal. Something went inside._

And there it was, a blade. “Nghh.” Sticking out of his chest.

It was pulled out.

“No…”

Cloud’s head lolled forward. His blue eyes, glassy.

Cloud struggled to look up, stretched out his hands to this angel who watched him with _love?_

His head felt like a thousand needles were stabbing it. And he gasped, as the angel whispered in his ear.

“I am not an _angel_. I am your **_God_**. You have only forgotten, Cloud.”

_His God?_

Cloud fell to the floor.

Abandoned.

The sound of the rain was so **loud** now as the world came back to _focus_.

“Cloud! That was some performance.”

.

.

.

Even her form was blurry.

“Cloud?”

He closed his eyes. He felt tired. Like he was just about to sleep.

**_ŠÆ¿Þ¦RØ†—¿_ **

“Gaia... Lazard! I need your help. Cloud… he’s...”

Cloud coughed, opening his eyes stubbornly at the sound of Marlene’s crying. Something felt wrong and he clutched at his chest and when he raised his hands, he saw blood on his fingers.

The world faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translation for the Promised Land, Advent Children's opening song can be found online but I placed it here because I found the message beautiful.
> 
> Why do we cling together?  
> Why do we give punishment to lesser hearts?  
> The Planet did not forgive us  
> Did not forgive us  
> The Planet did not forgive us  
> Did not forgive us  
> The pulse of veins flows through the earth  
> A faint, faint pulse  
> Of a heart drawn to death  
> A gentle life returns to the planet  
> Is it necessary to sacrifice souls?  
> Why do we cling together?  
> Why do we beg for forgiveness  
> In the Promised Land?
> 
> Also, the sending is inspired by FFX. Imagine Cloud dancing as Yuna <3


	3. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet shares disquieting truths that she’s learned about the Church of Midgar. Meanwhile, Cloud dreams of another life, of his first meeting with the One Winged Angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yey, finally some Sefikura action. This entire chapter is almost dedicated to the two of them, and some more world building. Also, I changed the rating to reflect all the happy and horrible things that will be happening in the coming chapters.

Beloved Child.

The Goddess had eyes for no other. The youngest was fashioned in the likeness of Her own image. His golden hair was spun from the silky threads of the sun. Sweet, tender, and adoring. Innocent and unmarred of the atrocities of the world. He had not seen bloodshed, partook of no suffering. He only knew peace.

His name was Clūd but more affectionately, they called the newborn Cloud.

He commanded the skies and the earth and drew frost to him even if exuding warmth that attracted all manner of creatures... Her greatest creation, whose only fault was perhaps his apparent innocence. The reluctance to harm others even under threat, and his naïveté at how the world should work. And it is a fault not his own, for all who are born suffer in this. And later, they are tempered by the Laws set by Herself and the others before Her.

Just another mannequin to add to their priceless collection. Obeying her will, the Goddess.

And yet even with all Her love, Cloud was lonely, for all Angels existed not for their Mother, but for their fated other half. Lest they become Gods.

The Child had none.

* * *

Cloud watched the little Angels play in the Garden, which stretched on for miles and miles with no end in sight. Only if one wished for it to end will it. And the fields were filled with those who were close to his age, all smiling, and all enjoying the warmth of the sun, and the stars they pulled closer should they wish it.

Their gait, and form, and even their breath did not reflect how they were all centuries older than him. And of course, as their youngest, he was not allowed to play for they were too rough, and too violent.

With their white wings fluttering behind, passing back and forth a ball of light, they fought for dominance. Of who might own the garden. Even just for a day. The light was but a miniature sun. A dwarf star that no mortal could hold. Cloud frowned and tried to create his own ball, just like it.

With increasing mirth, Cloud was happy that the light about him gathered, and it formed into a fiery heat, but before it could fully become that precious little sun that they were playing with, the ground beneath him shuddered, and with it, his light faded.

Cloud brought two little hands above his head, afraid that he would be hit by the crossfire even if he was in relative safety. And yet, despite the scare, he watched the skies in jealousy.

“You have got to do better than that. I am Zangan’s creation! None of you will ever beat me.”

A red eyed girl swooped from above and smashed their sun, and a ringing sound echoed all around as it hit the ground with such force, flowers got torn from their roots, their petals floating all around them in a flurry. Cloud watched with wonder as the older girl spread her wings and performed a lazy spiral downwards before diving swiftly, intent on _winning_ even after she had already proved her point and her strength.

All the other boys and girls who opposed her were flat on the grass and the crater from the blow left others injured and unconscious.

Angels would not die from it, but Cloud thought and wondered if it was painful to be hit by such a force. He shied away to hide behind the body beside him.

Below her, the _enemy_ fled as the girls flocked to her side, all marvelling at her victory.

“You’ll pay for this!”

Someone kicked the visibly smaller ball of light high above in an effort to restart the game and the red eyed girl caught it with ease.

“Oh, and who are you to challenge me?”

She spun the ball around and made it grow larger, and larger. And then she tossed it above her, then opened her fist and punched it with the other.

All the others started running away at her threat of _pain_ while the red eyed girl grinned. Happy that they won the garden and that no other angel dared fight her.

“Tifa! That was amazing. You should teach me how you became so strong!”

“Yes, finally we have this place all to ourselves.”

And Tifa tossed her hair back and said, “They were asking for it.”

And surrounded as she was with the other Angels, Cloud thought she wouldn’t notice him staring back at her. Cloud thought then that Tifa was so strong, and so _pretty_. Her eyes grew fierce when she was angry, but kind when she was surrounded by those dear to her.

And those red eyes glanced at Cloud and soon she was waving.

Cloud hastily looked away. He felt… shy. Singled out by his creator, someone visibly greeting him was almost debilitating to his senses. When he finally got over his surprise, he looked back only to see them all waving not to him, but to the Goddess beside him.

“Why can’t I join them?”

“Because you are special, my beloved child. If you play, you will tire from their games because of your strength, you will not know loss for you will always be the victor. I do not want you to grow dull or think you are _like_ them. Are you not happy spending time with me?”

Cloud turned away to look at the shining figure of the Goddess, whose love for him outshined all. His lithe form was soon enraptured in Her embrace even when little tears of frustration left his eyelids.

“I’m happy… but I also want to know what it’s like to have friends.”

“Friendship,” it was as if his Mother ate something disgusting at the way Her face twisted, “Is a thing mortals have created. All angels are part of the same family, brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers to each other, and naturally we are close, and as part of the family, there is no need to _spend_ time to do what mortals do when we know all about each other. Cloud, I assure you, one day you will understand what I mean.”

And they head back to the castle where all Cloud did is take knowledge from Her carefully crafted books. Instead of games, he saw visions of the Mortals they were taking care of. He was shown the Lifestream, and how their little planet was connected to all the others. How it was that in this sanctuary of the planet, all that have been foretold must come to pass for only then will the balance be met.

And Cloud wondered what it meant to become the balance. “For balance in the world is such an important thing.” The Goddess spread Her arms one after the other, “There cannot be light without darkness. There is no point of comparison if everything is equal, child. And as such, I have filled this world an equal opportunity for both. So contrast can exist. When there is too much of anything, that is when we interfere.”

That is when Cloud learned that Gaia was just an exercise on gardening. The Goddess is serene as She continued saying, “You wish to see your garden not overrun by weeds. You pick the flowers and trees that go together. This is why certain gardens can be considered beautiful and while others are chaotic. What kind of garden will you create one day, Child?”

They planted seeds of different kinds. Monsters. Flowers. Trees. Animals. And those that could think beyond all these, mortals fashioned from his Mother’s ideal form. Yet the Goddess does not truly care beyond this, Cloud knew. She was only content to watch and observe. Just like the gardener patiently waiting for the seeds to bear fruit.

“For in giving them a little freedom do they spread their wings. Do you understand, Cloud?”

Cloud did not. For his wings are always tucked behind him, unable to fly because the Goddess kept him to herself.

Cloud knew how to raise creatures from the earth. From the littlest microcosm, to the age old Dragons. He would sometimes sneak in, to the War room, where he could see the older Angels with their swords, and arrows, and spears, and weapons that could easily destroy and dismantle reality.

But he did not understand what destroying and dismantling and war means. For Minerva, Cloud’s purpose was to only learn of the Good and has yet to receive guidance to understand what is evil and if there was a difference between the two.

And She reminds him, again, and again. “My child, if you tarry from your path, you will never learn. Now, let me tell you a story...”

* * *

The stories were never ending until one day, Cloud had enough and hid away, wishing himself to disappear into nothingness. But true nothingness did not exist even if he was able to bend the laws of nature.

So his form still had to exist, and materialize in a way that allowed him to hide himself. He became smaller, blending into the shadows and turned into nothing but a speck of dust.

This way, no one knew where to find him, not even his Mother who was raising Hell in Her righteous fury.

With newfound freedom, he explored the Palace grounds. He passed through crystal veins, lingering around the ponds of green and followed voices and ghosts that were led astray by the lifestream. He played in the garden, swirling around with other specks of dust, but soon grew tired of this.

When he thought he had seen all and heard all, even watching little Angels like him, sleep or whisper to each other when no one was looking when they were supposed to be asleep, an act of rebellion that was similar to his… he found a lake at the edge of the world.

The lake was surrounded by wisterias. Flowers that Minerva did not care for but Cloud cherished. Above the pearly white water, the moon was shining, like an open mirror of the Sun and yet all around it, the sky was pitch black and lit with stars.

At the center of the lake, there was a man whose hair was silver. So unlike his Mother’s Angels.

He was knee deep in the water, and wore no clothing. Perhaps he was bathing, thought Cloud.

His eyes too, were not round, but slit, like a snake or a cat’s. It looked alien, and curiosity piqued, Cloud lingered on, observing how there was a sword just by the shore. A long one that was stained with red… blood? The wind would sway around this strange immortal, his hair would flutter against it.

He looked at peace, washing his face and body, and beneath him, the water turned pink.

Cloud could see the scars that littered on the man’s back. Soft lines that should have never made its mark for Angels could bleed but heal any injury.

It must have been painful to even see those mar his skin. Cloud wondered how this man got it.

“Show yourself.”

The man spoke and Cloud obeyed. In an instant, his form turned once more into a child. In the mortal world, he would possibly pass for a four year old, and yet he was already nearing his hundredth year. Time passed slowly, sluggishly… and age did not matter so much as his form which he could change at will, once he was ready to grow that is.

Cloud stood before him, his little feet walked on the surface of the water and in his delight, he walked around this man in a circle. His blue eyes blinked against green which stalked his movements like a hawk.

The Mother Goddess forbade him to approach the older angels, and this made Cloud rather sad. Minerva said that he was not just any angel. He belonged to Her and Her alone. And here the opportunity presented itself. To talk. And to understand why it was forbidden.

“I’m… Cloud.”

Cloud pressed a hand on his chest and he swallowed his nervousness and tried not to bounce at the balls of his feet.

It was a similar feeling to when he was receiving a present from his Mother’s cohorts. Or one from Herself, rare as that was. The urge to know, eating at him.

“Who are you? I’ve never seen you before,” Cloud asked, his little voice almost shaking with excitement.

“That is because your Mother has hidden you from me. My name is… ŠÆ¿Þ¦RØ†—¿.”

Cloud blinked. Unable to understand the language. As if even that was foreign, and he repeated what he could… “Seh fee Raught?”

“Sephiroth,” this silver haired man replied in apparent indignance as he looked down at Cloud.

“Sephiroth,” Cloud repeated to himself and smiled shyly, “Sephiroth, why do you look so different?” Cloud leaned closer, and he was happy to have the man’s name. Names bore power, and for this man to give it to him easily meant he was no threat. His Mother should not scold him too much then.

She often told him that _no one_ will ever harm him in Her Garden but to be wary of those who did not lend him their name.

But the look of hatred that pierced Sephiroth’s face was unnerving.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Sephiroth was quiet. And before he knew it, Cloud felt as if his entire existence was ignored. The man proceeded to wash his face and body. The metallic smell wafting against Cloud’s senses.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. But I have hurt others. It is their blood that I am washing off my person right now. If you do not wish to be sullied, I suggest you leave. Blood has a stench that your Mother does not like.”

Cloud blinked his blue eyes up at this and his wings twitched as it spread and he hovered, so he could come closer. Two tiny hands cupping a well chiselled face.

“I don’t mind… getting dirty. I can wash it off too…”

Sephiroth stared back, the pupils of his eyes dilating and it would seem as if the man got even more disturbed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.... please don’t get mad? I just noticed that you don’t look like the other Angels… but I find you… beautiful? And I don’t understand why Mother would keep me away from you or anyone else. Why She hates blood like you say she does… I don’t understand. Will you tell me?” Cloud struggled to find the words as he drew closer, as if magnetized by an opposite polarity.

Cloud did not know then, how this first meeting would spark a fire. A dangerous one at that. Before he could stop himself, he was touching the silver hair. And it glinted against the moonlight. By then, his chest was pressed against the man’s chest.

Almost as if they were hugging.

And all Cloud could think of was how soft and pretty a shade the silver hair was.

Where his hair was the reflection of the sun, Sephiroth’s was like the moon’s. He kept combing through it in silent marvel.

Until Sephiroth pushed him away.

Cloud saw his white robes dyed the color of red and didn’t mind.

“I do not like it, when others touch me.”

Cloud pressed his two lips together. The urge to touch was back again but with much difficulty he managed to control himself.

“You haven’t answered my questions,” Cloud said petulantly.

Sephiroth pulled himself out of the water and just like Cloud, stood at the surface and when he stood, he was massive. Cloud stumbled backwards, and he almost fell until he used his wings to right himself.

And then Sephiroth spread a black wing behind him. He was missing one other. It made Cloud so curious since all Angels had two wings and yet here, Sephiroth only had one.

“I am nothing but a weapon. Your mother calls me Her greatest Soldier. I have killed so many in Her name. And those like me are beneath you, Her chosen child. What you are doing is endangering us both. It is forbidden and Her word is law.”

Cloud tilted his head, “Killed? Why must you kill at all?”

“So innocent it is unbecoming. One day you will do it too. All Angels She bears must one day interfere with life, to satisfy Her desire. That is our purpose, to obey your Mother’s will.”

Cloud could not understand this. All the Angels were Mother’s children after all. And yet Sephiroth did not look like any of the children. He did not feel like family. Only. Barely. The only thing similar to Minerva was their eyes. Sephiroth had glowing green eyes, almost like the green of the Lifestream.

As for the killing… he knew not what it meant.

He knew his Mother’s plans were incredibly complex, following a certain path to fulfill certain prophecies that would lead to a desirable future. Perhaps one day he would ask Her what _killing_ meant. He was more concerned with how Sephiroth said it was _his_ Mother, as if he was not Her child.

“Are you not my brother as well?”

Sephiroth stepped away and turned his back at this question. His hair swished behind him. All Cloud could see was how the wings spread out, almost about to—

“Wait. Please… I’m sorry. Don’t leave?” Cloud was struggling to put his thoughts into words. He was embarrassed to admit to the man that this was the first time he spoke to anyone aside from his own Mother and so did not know how to properly phrase his words.

He knew that somehow his words had been callous. It was not his intention. He just wanted to keep talking to Sephiroth. Perhaps Sephiroth would be his very first friend?

Cloud flew around and blocked the man’s path. Spreading his arms wide.

“I won’t ask anymore questions… I know it’s not nice. I just want to know more about you. I feel… that I have to know you. So please don’t leave?”

Sephiroth looked at him with pity, as if having read his mind.

“I am not one of your Mother’s children. I am born from a Fallen Goddess. Perhaps you know of Her. The Goddess of Calamity.”

Cloud felt fear then, “Je...no...”

“Yes,” Sephiroth whispered. And he placed two fingers on Cloud’s lips. “You cannot say Her name without bringing about your Mother’s wrath.”

The one Goddess that happened on Minerva’s land, intent to consume all life and harvest all their souls. Such was Jenova’s existence. His mother could not kill another Goddess so instead they imprisoned Her. Forever.

“I am the union of one such Goddess, and your Mother’s other half. She allows me to live if only as punishment and as a favor to her beloved. You are their child. You should not be talking to me for I am a monster in Her eyes, a bastard that She will never consider Hers.”

Sephiroth turned away then and Cloud watched him retreat.

“You’re not a monster. I know what monsters are and you are far from it. You’re kind, Sephiroth… I know it.”

* * *

“So he has it too, the Angel’s Curse,” Scarlet observed the bleeding body in the medical wing of the Church. And all around them, there were healers, the best of their Priests and Sisters, casting one by one to the point of exhaustion to prevent the Child’s death. And still he has not recovered.

The bandages have overflowed in the bin, as they could not stem the wound that was fighting so hard to stay open. And even if it were to be stitched shut, the skin would rip itself apart.

There was a large gaping wound from the chest.

As if it was stabbed downwards, and again sideways. If the boy’s wounds heal, it would look like another cross mark, as if someone drew on the boy’s body and thought it would be nice to adorn it with crosses.

“Do you think he’ll survive this?”

Scarlet put a hand on her hip, “Not many do.”

“I know… Gaia. I should have known this would happen. Not to push him too hard.”

Scarlet gave Lazard a lingering look, “Whether or not he has tired himself has nothing to do with his current condition. You know that. Don’t blame yourself for it, Reverend, Lazard.”

Lazard sighed. He reached out and brushed the boy’s fringe out of the way, “He’s still too young to die.”

“Some of them survive. Have some hope. Pray to Goddess and maybe she’ll give us a miracle.”

Lazard sagged to his seat, “I’m trying.”

Scarlet placed a hand on the blonde man’s shoulders and looked around them. The congregation of healers were still lined up, and there were many onlookers who wished they could provide some help. “Leave us. I want everyone out. When we need another healer, I shall call for it.”

Scarlet snapped her fingers and watched as one by one they scampered out of the room like scared ants. Then she dug her fingernails on Lazard’s shoulder, her voice soft almost imperceptible, “What I am about to say cannot leave this room. Lazard, cast a silencing ward around us.”

Lazard gave her a questioning glance but with another warning squeeze he did as told.

“What is so important that you need this privacy?”

“I am breaking one the Church’s Laws and you better stay quiet. If you speak a word about it, I will know.”

Lazard raised both his hands and dropped it in an honest gesture of ‘I-really-don’t-care-at-this-point-so-speak’.

Scarlet rolled her eyes at his antics but eventually released her claws from his shoulder and began, “You see, I have read the scriptures, that all the Angels suffered the same wounds. Terrible wounds that would not heal. It would keep appearing until they bled to death if not treated. Some have speculated that it is the calling of the Goddess who wishes her Angels back into the fold that causes this but I wonder if it’s the truth. Some time ago, I overheard the old men whispering to themselves about the Curse. I’ve had my doubts since… that they’ve been keeping something from us.”

“Of course they are, the Church and their secrets. What else is new?” Lazard offered with an uninterested look.

“But it gets better. I’ve always satisfied my curiosity. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and so... secretly, I’ve read some of their journals, those kept in the Maze, and Lazard, I found _lies_. Truth and lies mixed together, and it is the foundation of our Church.”

Intrigued, Lazard’s full attention was riveted. “And what did you find?”

“First. We believe that there is only one Goddess that presides over the world. And that her name is unknown to us. But in the book I’ve read, the Angels claim there are many other Gods.”

“Gaia, this is insane.”

“They call our Goddess, Minerva but some call her Cosmos. Some interchangeably believe that it is Gaia, but all three are personified into this one Goddess that we know now… and there are others. Lesser Gods, Greater Gods, Fallen Gods… And there is proof of their existence but not within this planet, or at least, the Angels of the ancient times seem to claim.”

“What about those people that we massacred for the sake of this belief? Those who prayed to their deities, their dragons, their water. And all their idols? If you say that the fundamental belief of the church is wrong, then… what are we fighting for?”

Scarlet smirked, “Power? Influence? Control over the world? Lazard, you are not innocent. You are among the best of my Reverends so you must know that faith is not everything. Faith is how we control the weak and powerless. But that does not mean that we are totally wrong. The Goddess _does_ exist and we have Her blessing. But since we have it, we’ve had the power to twist the truth, to suit us. And thus, the lies. And many other lies.”

Lazard sighed, “This is a lot to take in.”

Scarlet released a puff of breath, “Oh. I know. I wished to burn the libraries when I found out. For if the truth ever came out, that we are spreading the faith in such a way. The people will rebel… Chaos will ensue. The reason why even in the farthest corner of this planet that belongs to the Church, there is peace, is because we are united in this Faith and to break that, is unacceptable. And yet, curiosity for the truth even if it broke my love for their Church kept me reading.”

Lazard was sitting beside the boy, eyes sunken down in worry after having not slept for two days. They have given Cloud blood transfusions, and his blood was of the rare type. They have even summoned Claudia in secret, and the mother lays asleep, and drained in another room beside his.

It was too soon, and what Scarlet was speaking of did not fully register. At the Back of his mind, he knew that the Church was not perfect, and yet to hear this. It was strange. It was like someone had pulled the rug under him and all he could see were the shitty wooden rotting flooring. And he was preaching blindly all these years. But Scarlet kept speaking, despite his reluctance to know. It was not like he had the authority to tell her to shut up.

“I wanted to help cure our little angel. I doubted the Stigmata is something our Goddess would have wanted them to suffer. It was strange why She would make Her vessel and Her voice to the world, die in such a horrible manner. If they hid the truth of the Gods and Goddesses, then they might have hidden the truth for the Angel’s curse. That was my thinking.”

Lazard sighed, “But there is no known cure for it. We can only delay the inevitable. Soon, if he survives this, he will heal and his body will grow stronger together with his magic. But then, there will be another trial. The cross marks will appear on his feet. On his forehead. On his eyes. And before he dies, if he manages to survive until then, he will bleed all over, from his pores, to where else the blood can flow. Most die from this and rarely do any survive. And we hid this too, from everyone because it is such a gruesome way to die.”

Scarlet paced. Rolling her eyes at Lazard’s recalcitrant speech, “I know. And we are bound by the scriptures. To say that the scripture is wrong will undermine the authority of the Church. But… you can say, the elders are no more for they have outlived their use. I had my men raid the underground library they kept from me to understand how we can help this child survive. Because I knew they knew the truth. And I have seen so much… that it almost pains me, to say that I am still a Pope.”

“Would you rather pass it on then?”

“Are you willing to take the helm?” Scarlet laughed. And Lazard shook his head. Scarlet was the Pope for a reason, and it was not a position she would let go over lies.

A question to test his loyalty and maybe his common sense. When she smiled sweetly back at him, Lazard knew he passed a test.

“What else did you find, Scarlet?” Lazard pressed his hands together and breathed slowly.

Trying not to think of the pale body that has grown white, and whiter still. At any moment while they’re talking, Cloud is dying.

“That there is something haunting our Angels. In the records of those who’ve lived and recorded their dreams, and experiences about the curse, there is one thing that always comes up. The existence of… other Angels who are but monsters and apparitions to them. These beings corrupt their minds and their bodies. The other children have written that the monsters wish to bring them salvation, and yet… it is through death. As if living was the real curse.”

“Goddess. Why?”

Scarlet laughed, “Who knows. They only come to take them away perhaps, from this world. They are the fallen ones. Those who do not love the Goddess that we know. When I read about it, I wanted to throw all the books away.”

She finally decided it was best to lean behind Lazard, as she looked up to the ceiling and with a wistful voice, she said, “I grew up not believing this is possible. Ghosts are not real. We cannot speak to the dead. Only the Goddess knows the truth. Angels are Her prophets… but metaphorical demons? Gaia Lazard, I was honestly in shock. But as you know, I am the Pope, and thus far, I have held myself together and shared with you this knowledge so I can have someone suffer with me. And our magic, and machinery cannot kill them. There is one story that comes to mind however, the One Winged Angel.”

Lazard scrunched his forehead, “The myth? That the Goddess has blessed another Angel that did not belong to Her. And how this man led Her army in complete loyalty and devotion. And yet, he was condemned for only having one wing and all those in Heaven grew jealous of his power. Exiled because of his deformity, and apparent imperfection despite his becoming appearance, this Angel of Heaven became a man, and it is said that all of us humans have once been angels like him, cast out of Heaven for our imperfections… And what does this have to do with the Curse?”

Scarlet nodded along and at the question, she replied, “Everything?”

Lazard brooded. He clenched his fist at his apparent helplessness. Scarlet did not pity him nor the child. “I took pictures when I visited the Temple of the Ancients, and I’ll let you see for yourself so you can give me your interpretation.”

She reached out from her breast and Lazard looked away, almost wanting to slap his hand on her forehead. Finally she handed it over, with a sensual smile that was purely Scarlet.

“Well?”

In one photograph, there was a mural carved on the wall, The Goddess, represented by her halo, and the sceptre she held in her hand, and the shield in another. Around her, there were winged beings, and then, one, with only just one wing.

“So this is the origin of the myth,” Lazard said.

“But this is the only time that angel ever appears…”

Then, there was rock that fell from the sky, and it broke what seemed like the world in half. This unnerved Lazard.

“Our planet is split in two. Or something happened in the past… something terrible?”

“I can only imagine,” Scarlet frowned.

In the next photo, the Angels fought against each other. The Goddess had her eyes closed.. The one winged angel was not part of it.

“So the Angels fought against each other. While the Goddess slept?”

“Or she didn’t care, or couldn’t help.”

And in the next one, the Angels fall, and descend to the world, and they lose their wings. It was more of a sequential photo, reminiscent of the popular photos of the evolution of man from Apes to humans.

“There is another one. Similar to that one.”

In the other half, there are angels too, facing the opposite side. And yet all those who lived in that world, kept their wings. Lazard put the two against each other and realized that… in the world where the Angels lose their wings, they keep their shadow. In the world where the Angels keep their wings, they lose their shadow.

“What does the shadow mean to you, Scarlet?” Lazard could only guess about the importance of this. And he assumed that Scarlet had done her own thinking.

“...All things that are cast against light have shadows… And if you are in a place without shadows… then perhaps you are in a place with no light?”

“So… does this mean that there is another world opposite ours where there is only darkness?”

“The Promised Land,” Scarlet offered.

“One where the Angels are perhaps still immortal and they are calling to those who have ended up here… where we mortals recide?” Lazard scratched his head.

“There is one more photo. This one…”

It shows the planet’s end. As strings gather around it, and break it into pieces. And all around the planet, there were meteors. Ending whatever existence there was in both realms.

Scarlet was worried and slightly disturbed as she said what Lazard could not, “This hasn’t happened yet, of course. Or maybe it already did. Who knows? But maybe it’s a prophecy. Thankfully, this much is beyond me and there is no one alive who can understand it. I showed this to Reverend Bugenhagen, and he told me. All the Angels have predicted the Planet’s death. That the planet is dying, and we have not done anything to stop it.” 

“Do you suggest we let _him_ die then? If I try to follow your line of thinking, all I can see is that it might be better to let Cloud die, so he can join the _other_ Angels… but it looks very disturbing that the only way to cross to the other side is to die.”

“No. No. I still have use for him,” Scarlet crossed her arms. “Maybe he does need to die. I ran out of theories. There is no cure. I cannot keep him in the relative safety of these halls when I do not know how much longer he has left to live. So I shall put him to good use.”

“Use? You intend to use him even though you know he’s dying?” Lazard stood up in rage.

“Of course. I wouldn’t be the Pope if I did not come to that conclusion. It is all we can do, and we need his support in the war. You never know, perhaps if we send him out in the Crusades, he’ll show the way.”

Lazard shook his head, “No.”

Scarlet laughed, her painted red nails began tracing the boy’s cheeks, “Oh all mortals die, Lazard. Angels just die sooner. You know just as well as I do that they rarely make it past their teens. This is my order. If he recovers, he will accompany us to battle. Don’t worry, I will have a battalion of healers should he bleed out again.”

Lazard grit his teeth, “I am still his guardian. Give him some time to finish his training before you send him to the wolves.”

Scarlet, “If you must, train him while we are away from the Capital. It makes no difference. Time is running out for him, and so is value. Soon, he will be nothing but a bleeding body we are forced to sustain. Burn the photographs for me, will you?”

* * *

Cloud became a little trickster. Tricking the Mother Goddess, again and again into believing he was an obedient son.

And yet, here he was sneaking away to see Sephiroth, just watching him, tailing after him. After shadowing the man for what seemed like an eternity, he knew, Sephiroth had two other friends.

One was Genesis, a loyal retainer of his Mother. The man is so zealous, he has declared that even if he must lose his immortality, he will still serve Her. Forever.

And Minerva was tempted to cast him away then and there, to see the extent of his devotion, and it was only Cloud who shook his head at this impulse that stopped it from happening. Genesis was an important friend to his friend. And Sephiroth might feel sad to lose Genesis over a whim.

Angeal was another. He was the man most older Angels looked up to. And yet, he was humble, just and kind. He trained the younger ones in battle, and he was followed by an excitable Angel with blue eyes like his who acted like a child despite his apparent form.

Right now, Sephiroth was rending the forest with his sword, testing just how much it could cleave without destroying.

But Cloud saw leaves be cut from a distance he could not even fathom. And his eyes could see things from _very_ far. One day he hoped he might hold a sword, and spar against the legend.

“Cloud. I know you’re there. Stop hiding.”

Sephiroth had taken to ignoring him, but for some reason, the man called him out, now that the two friends are gone.

How Sephiroth knew he was around when everyone else could not was something he could not understand.

Before long, he was crawling onto the man’s lap, seeking a well deserved hug. It had been some time before he was able to talk to him again. It took some pestering before they had gotten this close. And now, Cloud could say that Sephiroth was becoming less reluctant.

At the very least, from his touch. He once saw Sephiroth sever an Angel’s arm just for daring to touch him. Did that make him special? Cloud didn’t know.

“You’ve been following me. Is there a reason why?”

Why. Cloud wondered as well. So he tried being as honest as he could.

“I like you,” was the simple answer and he beamed at Sephiroth. Cloud thought about it, why he followed Sephiroth around, and to Cloud, it was… simple. Even if his Mother must make him kneel against fiery embers from hell itself, he was not going to stop seeing his friend.

Of course, Minerva has never punished him, but he saw the other Angels and how they cried when they burned their knees black. Only to be healed again and start over.

Sephiroth’s face was unreadable, and yet he leaned down to place his chin atop Cloud’s head. Arms, wrapping around Cloud, and it made him feel secure.

“Is that so?”

Cloud nodded, inhaling the unique scent that only Sephiroth seemed to have. All the other brothers and sisters smelled the same. Of the sun, and the earth, and the skies. And the Lifestream.

Sephiroth smelled like danger, of destruction, like an overripe fruit, at its sweetest. It was on its way to decaying but not quite there _yet_. It was like smelling something Cloud wanted to eat very much, like human fruits. Like mortal souls who lived meaningful lives.

Not that Cloud has ever eaten a soul, but it felt like Sephiroth had. And all the other Angels. Even Minerva would occasionally partake in a feast. Cloud wished to have a taste, for souls smelled so sweet sometimes, while others smelled thoroughly unappetizing.

“I do. I really do. You’re my first friend, did you know that? And you notice me always. I try my best to hide. No one else can see me but you? And that makes me feel happy, that even if I hide myself from the world and not even _Mother_ can find me, you will.”

Sephiroth brushed his hair down and pressed his forehead against Cloud.

“You talk too much.”

“I don’t think you mind it.”

Sephiroth said nothing.

“Can you teach me how to use a sword?”

Sephiroth pulled him closer, and Cloud could hear the thrum of life through the man’s body, “Cloud, you cannot keep seeing me.”

Affronted, Cloud pouted, “Why not?” If he did not get the right explanation, he was honestly going to cry. There was only so much rejection he could take as a child. And to be rejected by his _only_ friend hurt.

“The Goddess will not like it.”

“But you’re my friend. I want to be with you. Is that wrong?”

Sephiroth was silent, and before long he was pushed away. And Cloud couldn’t stop his tears.

“Why?”

“Soon… I will stage a rebellion. Your family will be slaughtered like flies, and the Goddess with them, Cloud. I cannot be your friend but I do not want to be your enemy. When the time comes, if you must choose a side, will you pick me, over your Mother?”

Sephiroth looked at him, his gloved hands tracing along Cloud’s lips.

And Cloud knew this was wrong. But his mind knew he could not pick Sephiroth because his loyalty belonged to Minerva. But he wished to say with certainty that he will always choose his friend. Always.

“You… I’ll… pick… you…” Cloud said, and his lips trembled. Sephiroth’s lips were twisted in a ghost of a smile, almost resigned.

“Whether your words are lies, or the truth that I have sought to hear… time will only tell. If only loyalty can be bought by such words of promise, I will have you swear it now. But I know, fate is cruel. Go back to your Mother, before I am tempted to steal you away.”

And in those eyes, Cloud saw fire.

Everything he’d ever known, burnt to ashes. Until nothing was left. A desire to destroy all that exists. Madness. Driven by despair.

And he closed his eyes and shook, afraid of seeing more. For feeling alone, when he never felt true loneliness before.

“Run, Cloud.”

And Cloud felt fear kick in, and the way Sephiroth gazed at him like a predator made him feel very small. Sephiroth was dangerous, Cloud realized with a start and he fought his desire to stay, because if he did, he thought favoured or not, Sephiroth would not hesitate to kill him for Sephiroth was the child of the Fallen Goddess, Jenova and he was Minerva’s.

* * *

The sky was pink.

And all around him, he could smell one thing.

Blood.

He looked down on his chest and saw a scar that just healed.

His small hands touched it, and still it was tender.

The image of a sword impaled in his flesh. Repeatedly. Stabbed. Repeatedly. The glint of cold steel cutting into his innards. Again. And again.

Cloud stopped touching the scar when his fingers turned bloody.

He felt lost. As if he could not understand why his body was so weak. Why it felt as if he should sleep some more. Or why something was pulling at him to _disappear._

Lazard was snoring beside him. The man buried his face at the side of the white sheets, still sitting on the chair.

And the fragments of the dream kept slipping away even if he knew it was important. But he couldn’t remember, not for the life of him.

Why he felt afraid.

And why he was sad.

As if he was reaching for something that was forever out of reach. A part of himself that he’d long forgotten.

Memories. Erased. Rewritten. Forgotten.

**_Even now, she seeks to keep you from me._ **

**_A long time ago, you swore to be mine._ **

**_You made a promise._ **

**_And I have come to collect it._ **

And just like that.

Pain.

“Ugh… No… please…”

Cloud clutched his head, the voice. His face. It was just there, haunting him. This angel that sought to kill him. Take his life away.

“Sephiroth?”

**_You remember my name._ **

**_Then you will come when called._ **

**_For I am your God now._ **

**_Not her._ **

Cloud scratched at his chest, and tried to shake his head, wishing for the warmth of the Goddess that he used to always feel. To be without Her made him feel naked.

“Stop… Leave me alone… I can’t…”

His voice was there, as if he was just next to him. A whisper.

And Cloud could feel a faint ghostly touch on his face. A caress.

“You are mine. _My puppet...”_

Cloud could not feel his legs, and soon he was gasping for lungfuls of air.

“ _So long have I waited for her to surrender your soul… and it is so sweet. You know it’s the truth. You feel the thrumming in your veins. My call resonates in your very being. Cloud, do you not wish to be reunited?”_

Cloud shook his head, but even then he was stepping away from the bed, as silently as he could. And he saw his Sceptre, and the voice inside was pleased.

He was crying when he took the sword, and his fingers slid down, until it sliced the thin skin of his forefinger.

Then, staring off into the distance, he held the blade away from him and poised the tip at his neck.

_“Do it.”_

Cloud closed his eyes.

.

.

.

Lazard was shaking him, having stolen the sword away but Cloud fought him, because Sephiroth told him to keep trying.

So they can be together.

“After all we’ve done, Cloud…”

His voice was just static in the background and all Cloud could hear was the voice of his God. Green eyes staring back at him, praising him.

“Such a good boy.”

He wished to become a bird and fly away, and his wings grew behind his back in response.

“Cloud… please, talk to me.”

The door opened, Marlene shouted, “I heard Cloud’s voice!”

But Cloud was just reaching out for the window.

Catatonic.

It started raining.

* * *

When he came back to himself, it was night time.

Marlene was sleeping beside him and there was another bed on the far side of the wall for Reverend Lazard. And he was watching over him, the lines underneath his eyes were so visible.

“Cloud. Do you recognize me?”

“Lazard?”

“Goddess… I thought I lost you. What’s the last thing you remember happening?”

Cloud filtered through his mind and recalled the weeks he spent practicing for the dance. “I… was performing the sending in the courtyard for Midgar. And then… I saw an Angel. And he said that I forgot… something… important...”

Pain wracked his mind and Cloud pressed two hands against it, trying to remember.

“I knew him. But I can’t… his name… I know his name… is Sephiroth.”

Cloud shook, and as he said the name, Lazard was beside him in an instant and Cloud was already shivering.

He felt lost and when he wiped his face, he saw blood.

“It’s alright. Don’t force yourself. I will cast a healing spell on you, and call for the rest to check if you’re alright. Your wounds have just healed. You do not need to remember… That we even have a _name_ for this _monster_ that wishes to kill you is already a good thing.”

Cloud laughed, “Kill me? He wants to save me, Lazard. From… this… world.”

And even Cloud realized it did not make sense.

“Stay with me. Try to stay awake… Let me wake Marlene so she can call for help.”

Lazard cautiously stepped around him, and gently shook the sleeping lady.

Marlene instantly stood up and when she saw Cloud, she proceeded bawling, “Oh. Cloud… Gaia. I thought you were dead. I thought you wouldn’t make it!”

“Marlene, call for the healers. We need to make sure he’s okay.”

She pushed herself off the boy and nodded. Wiping her tears with her sleeves.

When Marlene finally left, after carefully closing the door so as not to jar Cloud with the noise, Cloud was left staring at his lap, “I don’t think he’s a monster, Lazard. He… said I belong to him.”

Lazard kept shaking his head. “It’s alright. It’s just a dream. A vision. Nothing more. You should not believe it.”

Cloud bit his lips. “No… it’s real. As real as my visions of the Goddess. Even now. I can… hear… him. Calling. Lazard?”

And Cloud felt tired all of a sudden, as if something had stolen all his energy.

“Shh. It’s alright. Don’t speak of it anymore until we figure out what to do. Let’s just say I believe you. But talking about it is visibly affecting you. So I won’t ask anymore questions and I won’t have you speak until the healers are here. Deal?”

Cloud agreed to this. Not knowing what to say or feel at this point.

* * *

When Lazard Deusericus touched his student, his poor suffering Angel, he could swear he felt a presence from behind. It raised the hair of his arms, and swallowing the fear, he looked back.

And saw nothing. Just the empty space of his bed.

Frustrated. Lazard sighed and began carrying Cloud to his bathing room. At the sink, he saw the horror on Cloud’s face as he saw how much blood was there.

He was glad that Scarlet warned him that the apparitions existed, or else he wouldn’t have known what to do. Trying to feel cheerful, he gave a smile that turned into a grimace instead. “Perhaps a bath would be better at this point. At least the bleeding stopped. I’ll have to assist you since I don’t know if you can handle standing on your own.”

And Cloud looked as if he was just about to break then. So young, so delicate, and so haunted. He swore he would look up the name in the hopes of finding answers.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s going to be dark. I’m writing this primarily for myself but if it makes other people happy, that’s always cool too. Let me know what you think~


End file.
